Nobody's Wife
by Sweetfire22
Summary: Sequel to Trophy Wife. Draco's absence has left a slowly healing hole in Hermione's heart as she begins to live her own life free of Rhys's control. A new enemy enters and threatens all that Hermione has built. DM/HG
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: And thus begins the sequel to Trophy Wife. You probably won't understand this story unless you read the other one first. Enjoy!**

Hermione woke up the day after Rhys's trial feeling refreshed, and almost…happy. She enjoyed a nice, long shower, after which she went to the kitchen for breakfast. The summer day was warm and sunny, so she opened the window to let the air flow through her house. As she breathed in the scent of the windflower patch that grew outside her house, she heard a strange sound on the wind. Listening closely, she thought she heard a weird sound, almost like…screaming.

Hermione rushed outside. The sound, whatever it was, was coming from the direction of Malfoy Manor. She shuddered. It took only moments for her Gryffindor loyalty and bravery to kick in; if someone was hurt, then she wasn't going to stand idly by and let something happen that she could possibly prevent. Plus, a small part of her heart hoped that she might find Draco there. She ran swiftly towards the colossal mansion, taking great care not to accidentally put her foot in a gopher hole—there were many of these in the rolling fields.

When she finally approached the mansion, she began to hear a loud thudding mixed with the plaintive cries, but these weren't coming from the house—they were coming from behind it. Hermione walked quietly past the front of Malfoy Manor, glancing inside as she did so. It looked like looters had stripped the inside of everything valuable. Her heart sank. Draco wouldn't be here.

Her wand held aloft, Hermione warily approached the building behind Malfoy Manor. The large, black painted stable was the source of the noise. The thudding was coming from inside, as was the sound that had brought her here. No longer did it sound like screaming, but more of an inhuman wailing. She threw open the doors of the stable, her eyes flicking from side to side.

"Oh my God," she said in horror.

There were four horse stalls in the stable: two on either side. The sounds were coming from the only occupied stall. Darkness, Draco's gelding, was plunging and rearing in his confinement. His hooves repeatedly struck the wooden gate that barred his stall, which had almost given way. The cries were coming from the horse, whose body was streaked with sweat. Foam dripped from Darkness's mouth.

Hermione realized that he hadn't been fed or given water for days. It had been six days since Draco had left, and even if the water trough in the stall had been full then, it still would have run out within a few days. "Aguamenti!" she cried, sending a stream of water into Darkness's dry trough.

The horse immediately stuck his muzzle in the water and began to drink swiftly. Hermione next went to the corner of the stable, where the grain barrel stood. While Darkness gulped water, Hermione filled up his food container with grain and filled up his hay rack with hay. Darkness slowly calmed down. She opened the gate to his stall tentatively and went inside, wary of his powerful hooves. His coat was matted and dirty from neglect. Noticing a brush on the wall, Hermione began brushing Darkness's side. The gelding paused in the middle of eating a mouthful of grain to nicker gently in pleasure.

While Darkness ate, Hermione continued brushing his body until his coat was shiny and clean. She cast a quick spell to heal him from any damage he might have incurred from being dehydrated. She left the contented horse for a moment to check out the rest of the stable. The servants of the household must have left when their employers were no longer there to pay them, Hermione realized. She couldn't believe that not one of them had stayed to make sure Darkness would be taken care of.

Stacked inside two of the other three stalls were bales of hay and barrels of grain, so at least Hermione would be able to keep feeding Darkness. There was nothing else in the barn, and she had the sneaking suspicion that it, too, had been looted. The only reason that Darkness hadn't been stolen too was probably that, deprived of food and water, he was too wild to let anyone near him. As she walked back towards Darkness, she noticed that there was a golden glow coming from the last stall, one that she had thought was empty. She pushed open the gate to see the body of a very young horse lying still on the ground on its side. Its color was abnormal for a horse—a beautiful, pure golden color.

"Oh no," Hermione gasped, thinking that it was dead.

At the sound her voice, the small creature let out a pitiful neigh and struggled to raise its head. Now that Hermione looked closer, she realized that the thin sides of the animal were rising and falling slightly with breaths. She filled up the empty water trough, but it soon became evident that the little horse was too weak to stand up and drink.

As she entered the stall, she felt a whooshing of magic around her. Whipping out her wand, she shouted a charm to discover what it was. The response was that it was a Purity of Heart ward that had been placed on the cave so that no one evil could enter it. This baby horse had been well-protected, it seemed.

She poured a little water into her hand and held her hand to its muzzle. A pale tongue touched the water in her hand and then began lapping it up faster and faster. Hermione kept pouring more and more water in her hands, and the golden horse continued to drink it. When the small belly was round with water, she stopped giving it more.

As she stroked its soft forehead reassuringly, she felt something hard under her finger. Looking closely, she realized that it was the tiny stump of a unicorn horn. The baby horse was really a unicorn foal! And a male, by the looks of it. The unicorn stumbled to his feet unsteadily, nuzzling at her hand for food. Hermione brought some of it the grain to him, but the unicorn ignored it.

"What do you eat?" murmured Hermione questioningly.

The golden foal nickered and nudged her hand. Its belly growled hungrily.

Hermione left the stall and desperately searched the stable again. Finally, she thought to look inside the fridge. Inside of it were bottles of a silvery-white liquid, labeled "Unicorn Milk." It looked like milk, but it had a silvery cast to it. She pulled out one of the bottles and brought it back to the unicorn.

When he saw the familiar bottle, the unicorn reared excitedly, making soft sounds of delight.

Hermione held the bottle up to him and he immediately locked his teeth on the nipple of the bottle, sucking eagerly. The foal drained the bottle in a matter of minutes before slumping back down on the ground contentedly. Hermione kneeled beside him, stroking his soft coat. "You're beautiful," she said wonderingly. Now that she looked closer, she noticed subtle differences between him and a normal horse. Besides the obvious body color, his muzzle was slimmer and more delicate than those of horses, as were his legs. His eyes were a deep blue color, and looked very intelligent.

_Where did the Malfoys get a unicorn foal?_ she wondered curiously. Foals were very difficult to separate from their mothers, and even the mothers were extremely difficult to catch. Full-grown unicorns protected their young with all their strength, as foals were not born very often and were greatly valued in the community. Unicorn foals also had strange powers that had never been fully discovered. No wonder such a powerful Purity of Heart ward had been placed on its stall: he would be an enormous prize for anyone to steal. A unicorn foal, even if not used for arcane purposes, would be worth well over half a million Galleons. Used for black magic, its potential was endless. As the foal drifted off to sleep, Hermione returned to Darkness.

"You've been locked up in here for days," she said sympathetically. Darkness's ears stood up when he saw her again, and he snorted excitedly. "Maybe you'd like to go outside and run?"

Darkness still wore his bridle, so Hermione led him out of the stall. The door of the barn opposite of the one she had used to come in led to the fenced in pasture where she could let him out.

"I have a better idea," she said softly, an idea coming to mind.

Darkness had no saddle on, and though the saddle was hanging from a hook on the wall, Hermione didn't have the faintest idea of how to put it on. "Oh, how hard can it really be to ride bareback?" she asked herself. "The American Indians did it!"

Leading Darkness to the mounting block in the corner wasn't easy, for the gelding was prancing about, eager to get out of the stable. Finally, though, she managed to get to the chunk of wood and stood on it awkwardly. Even standing on the mounting block, Darkness was huge. Hoping for the best, she swung a leg over Darkness's side, grabbed his mane, and hoisted herself onto his broad back.

"Okay, I'm good," she muttered, using her knees to grip his sides tightly.

Darkness walked towards the door on his own and left the stable, breaking into a trot when he had cleared the door.

Hermione held onto his mane for dear life, realizing that she hadn't taken the time to attach his reins to the bridle. Her hair streamed out behind her in the wind. Without warning, Darkness charged into a gallop, his hooves pounding rhythmically on the lush green grass.

"Whoa!" she tried to scream, but her voice was lost in the wind whipping by. Even as she gasped, fearing that she would fall off, part of her body reveled in the feeling.

Darkness's powerful body surged up and down rhythmically beneath her as he galloped swiftly over the fields. Hermione pulled on his mane, trying to get him to slow down, but Darkness didn't seem to even notice. He galloped wildly away from the stable. Within minutes, he was approaching the mountains that were just a few miles behind Malfoy Mansion.

Hermione's arms grew weak, and she feared that she would soon fall off. She tried to call "Whoa" again, but her voice was lost in the wind.

Finally, she realized that there was a rope that attached to Darkness's bridle. She pulled back on it, hard, and the effect was immediate. Darkness halted instantly, and Hermione went flying off his back and over his head. She hit the ground full force. If it hadn't been soft, thick grass that she landed on, she would have done some serious damage. As it was, it felt like she had bruised every inch of her body.

Hermione groaned and got to her feet, wincing. Darkness cropped grass calmly several yards away. She walked gingerly over to him.

"I think that next time," she said hoarsely, still quite winded, "I'll make sure I have the reins attached."

Darkness looked up and snorted.

"Are you laughing at me?" she asked him incredulously. Then she realized what she had just done. "I'm talking to a horse," said Hermione to herself disbelievingly. A strange feeling bubbled up in her throat and erupted into sound. She was laughing! She hadn't laughed in days…not since the last time she had been with Draco. Smiling broadly, she grabbed a handful of Darkness's black mane and hoisted herself up onto his back. "All right," she said, experimentally squeezing Darkness's sides with her knees.

This time, seeming tired out after his gallop, Darkness trotted amiably back towards the stable. Hermione was able to relax and enjoy the ride. Riding bareback wasn't as easy as she'd thought it would be. Darkness's back was broad, and she felt that if she didn't sit perfectly balanced, she'd fall off.

"I'll get better at this," she said, stroking Darkness's warm neck. "After all, I guess I'll just take care of you now—since Draco's gone." She sighed, thinking. "I wish he'd come back," she murmured.

They eventually reached the stable, and Hermione left Darkness to graze in the pasture. While Darkness happily munched on an apple from the bin in the stable, she went back to check on the sleeping foal. He looked fine now, if still a little emaciated. She checked to make sure that the Purity of Heart ward was still in place, and then added several more of her own. After she had thoroughly warded the foal's stall, the stable, and the pasture where Darkness grazed on the grass contentedly, she apparated back to her house.

The wards she had placed on her house made it impossible for anyone to apparate inside, even her, so she ended up on the front porch.

"Hermione!" said a surprised voice. Ron stood right beside her, his hand poised to knock on her front door.

"What do you want?" she asked, unlocking the door. The anger that she would normally use towards him was absent from her voice, as she had had an amazing day so far.

"I just want to talk," he insisted, putting his foot in the door so that she couldn't shut it on him.

"What could you possibly have to say that I would want to hear?" she snapped, pushing his foot away.

"I think I'm in love with you!" he burst out.

Hermione slammed the door.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Mind Healer Draco Malfoy peered into the mirror intently as he dabbed the light-colored cream just below his eye with the left ring finger of his right hand, rubbing it in small circles until the color melded with the exact tone of his skin. He took a step back, examining the effect. Yes. The muggle coverup makeup perfectly concealed the dark bruising under his left eye.

"What are you doing, Healer Malfoy?" purred a sultry female voice.

Draco turned around to watch the lovely young woman sashay into his bathroom, wearing nothing but his shirt. She twirled his black tie around in her hands, gazing up at him with sleepy eyes and lips still roughed dark red from the night before.

"Aww, I thought the black eye made you look hot and dangerous," she said with a flirtatious wink, her makeup, flawless the previous night, smudged slightly around her eyes. The effect was devastatingly sexy.

"Getting decked in the face by a patient in a fit of hysteria falls slightly short of the 'sexy' mark," Draco replied wryly, checking the effects of the coverup in the mirror. The bruising was nearly invisible.

"Remind me again why you didn't just use magic to fix it?" the curvy brunette said coyly, sidling up to him and running her finger lightly down his bare arm.

"Too much magical healing takes its toll over the years," Draco replied into the mirror, quoting his former mentor, a celebrated Healer who had imparted much to him during his Healer training and had died only a year previous.

"Mmm and we don't want anything to hurt that beautiful face of yours."

Draco watched in the reflection of the mirror as her hands slid around his waist from behind and settled lightly over his groin. He felt her body mold to his back and her head rest lightly just below his shoulder blades. His tie was still gripped in her hands. The very tie, in fact, that he had planned to wear that day. "Almeda, I need to get ready for work," he said firmly.

"Aw Draco..." she complained as he stepped away from her. "Can't you cancel?"

Draco snatched his tie away and held it out of her reach, examining it for wrinkles. Ugh. He'd have to find another one. "No, I cannot cancel my patients for the day to lie abed with you," he said bluntly, already losing interest in her. Work was his livelihood—it was impossible for a woman to come ahead of that. Even such a lovely one as Almeda.

Almeda let out her breath with a huff and stormed out of the bathroom. Draco glanced once again in the mirror, willing the impatience to leave his features. There was no point in sexual release if all that happened afterwards was an addition of more stress. He inhaled once, deeply, and released his breath, watching the result carefully in the mirror. There. His smooth, unlined face looked relaxed once more. His hair was lightly tousled with sleep and a quick spell sculpted it fashionably and preserved it with a small dollop of gel. A few strands of hair fell into his grey eyes. Draco ran his hand across his jaw, deciding that he would leave shaving until the evening.

Draco walked into his bedroom, bare feet sinking into the luxurious, cream-colored carpet. Almeda sat stiffly on the edge of his king-size, silk-covered bed, her back to him as she finished braiding her long hair down her back. She had taken off his shirt and replaced it with her own clothes, a short gauzy black dress with shiny sequins along the low neckline. "Do you want to do something for dinner tonight?" Almeda asked shortly. She was still angry with him for his tone earlier, he could tell.

"I'm working late."

"What the hell are we, Draco?" Almeda snapped, whirling around to face him. She was less lovely when she was angry with him, Draco noted with a sense of detachment. Her nose wrinkled and her face tightened with anger, looking pinched and severe. "What are we even doing together? You never even _see_ me anymore! You were totally distracted last night; it was like fucking a brick wall."

Draco grimaced at her course language. He'd had to commit a suicidal patient to St. Mungo's yesterday after wrestling him down from his office window, receiving a black eye in the process. The day had been draining, leaving him little energy for intercourse when Almeda had shown up unexpectedly at the door of his penthouse suite in London. He liked the girl well enough; he had met her at one of his mother's parties several months ago. She'd been eager to get into his bed and he had been very drunk. After a fevered night in his childhood bedroom of the Manor, Almeda had fancied herself to be Draco Malfoy's girlfriend. From the start he'd made sure never to say anything involving commitment; since his father had gone to prison and his crazy aunt Bellatrix had been killed in the final battle, he'd been reluctant to enter into any serious relationship. He and Almeda had never spoken about feelings before. This conversation was bordering on treacherous territory.

But he knew how to sort her out, knew what she really wanted. And fuck it all, he could use it as well. Glancing at the clock to reassure himself that he had a little over two hours before his first patient, Draco crossed the room in four long strides.

Almeda stood as he approached, eyes blazing with defiance. Draco's strong fingers closed over her wrists and forced them upward. As he continued walking forward, Almeda was forced to step backwards until her back was against the wall. He pushed his body against hers, trapping her against the wall with her hands pinned above her head, looking down upon her suddenly flushed face. Her eyes, those lovely hazel eyes, stopped being angry and practically _shone_ with desire.

"Do you dare to mock me, Almeda?" Draco asked quietly, dangerously. He noted that her breathing kicked up a notch. Her lips parted as she began to pant. Heat radiated from her core directly against Draco's silk-pajama-clad pelvis.

"N-no," she breathed softly, her lashes lowering as she dropped her gaze. Her body was soft, submissive, and pliant as he held her firmly with the strength of his body.

"No, _what?_" he snapped sharply with a punishing bite on her bare shoulder. The dress she'd worn the night before bared all of her shoulders and much of her rounded breasts. He felt her body jerk against him as she gasped.

"No, _Draco!_" she squealed, her body tightening. Her gaze flew to meet his, very-convincing fear in her hazel eyes, along with a shiver of lust that she was never able to hide. This was the game she played, always trying to provoke him into dominating her. He was pretty sure she only truly got off when he was playing the role of the strong, powerful, dominant male. And damn him if there wasn't something exciting about the entire thing.

Draco thrust hard against her suddenly, slamming her back against the wall. She let out a gasp that was part-pleasure and part-pain. "You're wet, aren't you?" he hissed, knowing absolutely that he was right. "If I thrust my fingers into you right now, you'd be soaking fucking wet, wouldn't you?"

Almeda wasn't quick enough to hide her moan as he ground his hips into hers with a sensual, circular motion. He knew the word "fuck" turned her on, though he wasn't ordinarily a man who used the word in normal conversation.

"_Wouldn't you?!"_ he growled, thrusting against her again.

"Yes, Draco!" she shrieked, now desperately rubbing against him in a wild, undulating motion. "I'm wet!"

Draco's cock throbbed as Almeda bucked and jerked in his arms, trying to find release against him. Turning her on this much gave him tremendous power, but he wasn't about to relinquish it so easily. "Stop," he said coldly, with as much command as he could muster. The effect was instant. Almeda froze, trembling, in his arms, her harsh breathing the only sound in the room. "Hands and knees." He released her wrists and watched as she knelt on the carpet as he requested, her bottom facing him. Her dress was slightly hitched up around her waist, allowing him to see the curve of her ass, cupped by a very tiny scrap of lace. He padded around her slowly, knowing how much she wanted him, intoxicated by that knowledge, but refusing to let her have him just yet.

"Draco..." Almeda let out a whimper of desire, and Draco's hand smacked hard against her backside in punishment. She squealed as the blow hit.

"You don't speak unless I ask you to," he intoned firmly, kneeling behind her. He wrapped his hand around his aching member and stroked himself several times, rubbing the head against her hip.

Almeda pushed back against him, desperate for more contact, but Draco spanked her again, five blows in quick succession that left his hand stinging. Weary of the games, he pushed aside her underwear, lined himself up with her core, which was slick and ready for him, and surged inside her, warm and tight. Her cries and screams of pleasure spurred him into a hard, fast, and silent fucking, his hands gripping her hips tightly and increasing his speed and depth. He felt her tighten around him as she wailed his name, and gritted his teeth as he thrust two, three, four more times before wrenching himself out of her and spilling onto the smooth skin of her back.

Almeda collapsed on the carpet once he released her, and Draco stood up on shaky legs to retrieve his wand from the bathroom. He cast cleaning spells on the both of them and held out a hand to Almeda, helping her to her feet. "That was wonderful," she murmured dreamily, pulling him against her and kissing him square on the lips.

It was Draco who broke the kiss, turning from her as the familiar sensation of uneasiness swept through him. Every time Almeda insulted his masculinity to provoke him into the rough sex that she was so fond of, he felt uneasy afterwards. The intelligent, Mind Healer part of his brain knew that he was psychologically uncomfortable with intentionally hurting another person physically in the pursuit of sex, even though he knew that she liked it. The rather pigheaded, unintelligent part of his brain liked sleeping with her and didn't want to go through the trouble of finding another girl who wasn't the clingy type. And for all her faults, Almeda certainly wasn't clingy...most of the time.

"I'll see you later," she called flippantly over her shoulder as she picked up her wand and disapparated, blowing him a kiss as she did so.

Draco scowled as he made the bed and dressed himself. He was starting to genuinely dislike Almeda. While he took the elevator downstairs he reflected on why he even allowed her to remain in his life, but couldn't come up with any reason better than she pleased him at times and he was unmotivated to delve too deeply into the problems in their relationship.

The high-rise building where his office was located was a mere ten minute walk away from his penthouse. Draco enjoyed the walk; the early-morning crowds had dissipated, leaving the streets mildly occupied and reasonably quiet. He wore a muggle-style, very expensive suit of black wool, covered by a thick, fur-lined cloak with a white gold clasp at the throat. Though he had grown up wearing strictly wizard clothing, he had realized very soon after his entrance into the adult wizarding world that many wizards wore a combination of muggle and wizard clothing. He himself preferred the variety that mugglewear offered him, though he still wore dress robes to most formal functions. He could still proudly say, however, that he had never in his life donned a pair of the slovenly muggle attire called "jeans."

He took the elevator to the 13th floor, amused, as he so often was, at how the other two muggles in the elevator didn't even notice him push the button. As far as they were concerned, the 13th floor didn't even exist. Draco saw exclusively wizard clients, of course, and had seen to the muggle-repelling enchantments himself. Though he didn't pay rent to the muggle owners of the building, he'd had to pay a hefty bribe to the Ministry of Magic in order to avoid the muggle protection laws that had burst into bloom after the Dark Lord was defeated.

His practice took up the entire 13th floor, though much of the space was unused. The waiting room, which never had more than two or three people at a time waiting for him or his partner, was expansive and elaborately decorated. Two loveseat couches and four comfortable chairs were in a semi-circle facing the receptionist's desk on a polished hardwood floor. A large burgundy rug took rested on the floor. The walls were a soft amber with a border of pale pink at the top. A sweet fragrance of incense floated through the air, magically caused by a spell that the receptionist recast every morning.

Draco swept through the door thirty minutes before his first and only patient of the day. Sundays he usually kept free for himself, but had recently begun seeing a neurotic Ministry worker who was unable to meet him any other day.

"Good morning, Healer Malfoy," said Kenzie, his receptionist, a distant cousin of his that his mother had begged him to employ. The lad was actually Draco's Great-Uncle Alphard Black's illegitimate son, but it made Draco's head hurt to even _try_ to figure out what familial label to put on him, so he called him a cousin. Kenzie had been out of Beauxbatons for a year now but still had no idea what he wanted to do in life. He was high-strung and easily hurt; Draco's father had always poked fun at him and called him a weakling the few times he'd met him at family social events.

"Good morning, Kenzie," he replied, straightening the decorative bird that sat on the counter. "Why are you here on a Sunday?"

Kenzie normally worked Monday through Friday from 10 am to 4 pm; though Draco saw patients outside of those hours, the office was only open during those hours. Draco took a closer look at his cousin. The 19-year-old had the trademark deep grey eyes of the Black family, but apart from that he looked nothing like Draco. He was tall and lanky, with sandy brown hair and wide eyes that were normally sparking with enthusiasm. Today, however, he looked very nervous.

"I—I wanted to ask your opinion about something," Kenzie said quietly, glancing around the empty waiting room unnecessarily to make sure there was no one listening.

Draco glanced at the grandfather clock in the corner. He still had twenty minutes left. "Go ahead," he said noncommittally. The only part of his practice that wasn't perfect and polished was his cousin. He frequently forgot to pass on messages or dropped files, but usually not in front of clients, thank Merlin. His redeeming quality was his spellwork. Kenzie was brilliant at creating handy spells for everyday use, though the irritatingly-humble lad credited it to his Charms professor at Beauxbatons.

"My mum wants me to see a Mind Healer," he muttered, his face red.

Draco raised an eyebrow when Kenzie offered no further explanation. "Why?" he prodded.

"Because she thinks I have no future," he whispered, refusing to meet Draco's eyes.

Draco tried not to smirk. "Career counseling? Why are you afraid of that?"

Kenzie bristled at the word "afraid," which nearly made Draco lose his battle with his laughter. "I'm not crazy," he hissed, taking another quick check of the waiting room.

"Seeing a Mind Healer does not make you crazy," Draco informed him with a touch of impatience. That whole mentality of "Seeing a Mind Healer means you're crazy" drove him, well, crazy. It was utter nonsense. Granted, he did see clients who could fit the bill, but that wasn't his sole function. "It simply means that you want to make yourself better. You know that I can't see you, however—it's a conflict of interest."

Draco could see Kenzie's relief at not being thought of as crazy, but he didn't comment on it. "My mum made an appointment for Friday with a Mind Healer named Vogner. Healer Rowan didn't have any openings for a few weeks."

Mind Healer Rowan Middleton was the other Healer who treated patients out of Draco's practice. He had graduated from Durmstrang and, at 28, was two years older than Draco. Rowan had mentored Draco during his internship at St. Mungo's and the two had formed a friendship founded on mutual professional respect and a love for Quidditch.

"Career counseling only takes a few sessions," Draco assured him, somewhat relieved that it wasn't anything worse. Though past women in his life had described him unflatteringly as emotionally stunted, Draco had come to care very much for his cousin since he had hired him. He hadn't heard of Healer Vogner before, but career counseling wasn't something that required a renowned Healer. "Since you're here for a few minutes, any messages?"

"A few," Kenzie said, a small smile on his face. That his older cousin didn't think him addled was clearly a relief. He reached for a scrap of paper on a stack of files and promptly knocked the entire pile over.

Draco sighed. Thank Merlin the waiting room was empty. No one was present to witness Kenzie as he squeaked in dismay and began reassembling the pile.

"Here!" he crowed finally, holding up the parchment. "Okay, St. Mungo's owled saying that the patient you committed yesterday is refusing to speak to any of their Mind Healers and says that he'll only consent to being treated by you."

Draco nodded, having expected as much. "Send a reply Monday morning and let them know I'll be there in the afternoon. I'm consulting there tomorrow as well. Anything else?"

"A man owled about making an appointment for his daughter. She was seeing another Mind Healer for intense arachnophobia and he doesn't like how little she's improved so far..."

Draco frowned. His services didn't come cheap, and something as trifling as arachnophobia wasn't normally a problem that he dealt with, unless the person was very wealthy. Still, the phobia was easy enough to overcome. "What was the last name?"

"Zipprich?" Kenzie said hesitantly, rechecking the parchment.

"No," Draco stated coldly. "Reply that I have no vacancies at this time."

Robert Zipprich was an American building contractor who had moved to England after striking it rich on a lawsuit, though the rumor was that he had won the lawsuit through magical deception and trickery. Draco's mother had hired him a few months back to remodel the rarely-used kitchen at Malfoy Manor, with disastrous results. Though his work had looked fine on the outside, the house elf, Mopsy, was nearly killed a week after completion when she opened up a cabinet and the entire thing came down upon her. Though Zipprich had refunded their money and paid for Mopsy's healing when Draco had paid him a furious visit, Draco harbored bad feelings for the man and was disinclined to treat his daughter.

Kenzie scribbled something down on the parchment before making his goodbye to his cousin. "I'll see you Monday," he called, holding the door for Draco's client as she walked in.

"Marisa, how are you?" Draco asked politely as his neurotic Ministry worker entered, her eyes darting around like they always did to check for danger. It drove him barmy. His office was perfectly safe. The enchantments around it had been personally cast and reinforced by him. He checked them every week to make sure they were still in working order. Though he had been a Mind Healer for four years, he still inwardly lacked the patience for some of the obnoxious things his patients did. Outwardly, however, he was calm and polite, his professionalism undeniable.

Marisa's eyes snapped to his and he saw relief buoy her entire body. She stood up straighter, her cheeks relaxed, and she walked quickly over to him, grasping his arm as she reached him. "I think there was a muggle following me here," she whispered in a ragged voice.

Draco calmly detangled her fingers from his arm and led her into his office. "As you know, there are a great many protective enchantments surrounding this office. Any muggle following you would be repelled instantly before even reaching this floor." He had said this at least twenty times since he had started seeing her a few months ago. He shut the door behind them and locked it at Marisa's request.

As she always did, Marisa chose the straight-backed wooden chair to sit in, the only not comfortable chair in the room. His office was cozy, with his desk in one corner and several sofas and comfortable chairs scattered around the interior. Floating candles bathed the room in a warm yellow light. Draco himself sat in a tall, green, silk-cushioned chair with his legs crossed at the knee and his hands clasped in his lap.

"How was your week?" Draco began, bracing himself for the onslaught that was sure to come. And sure enough, over the next fifty minutes Marisa expounded on the muggle who had been supposedly following her. The 43 year old woman worked in the stuffy records department at the Ministry of Magic and had a chronic fear of muggles, as well as occasional crippling paranoia. Draco had been working with her over the past weeks to help her realize that her fears were unfounded, as wizards were the superior species with their magical abilities that made it very difficult for muggles to hurt them.

Draco pondered giving her a double strength anti-anxiety potion to help her through the next week when a phrase in her neverending monologue about how she was certain the world was ending caught his attention. "I'm sorry, can you repeat that?"

Marisa gave him a dark look. "I saw all three members of the Golden Trio in Diagon Alley together the other day. If that's not a sign that the world is coming to an end, then I don't know what is!"

Draco caught himself before he said something nasty about the fabled Golden Trio in front of his client. The "Golden Trio." Merlin, but he hated that ridiculous nickname. He ended the session soon after, giving her an anti-anxiety potion that would last the week if she took it. "I'll see you next week, Marisa."

"What if you Splinch yourself before then?" Marisa asked with a tinge of desperation.

"I will not Splinch myself," Draco assured her for the hundredth time. "If anything were to happen to me, my partner would be more than capable of recasting the enchantments around the office."

With a few more reassurances and Draco's patience growing dangerously thin, the rail-thin Ministry worker tottered nervously from the office, her potion clutched tightly in her hand. As he always did, Draco spent a few minutes writing some notes from the session down in Marisa's confidential file.

After that, he let himself contemplate what Marisa had said. The legendary Golden Trio who had defeated Voldemort had made a sensational splash across every tabloid and newspaper in the wizarding world about three years ago but had since gone suspiciously quiet. As far as Draco had known, Weasley was forever out of their little circle of joy. Not that he blamed Potter and Granger, of course. What Ron had done was unthinkable. Though he couldn't stand her insufferable know-it-all attitude that she still had _to this day_, he couldn't imagine what she had gone through at the hands of her friend. The last he'd heard, Ron had fled to Russia or Romania or Czechoslovakia or something. If he was back, that was quite an interesting development.

Draco had to admit to himself that he had a bit of an obsession with tracking former classmates from Hogwarts. It had a little something to do with wanting to make sure that he was more successful than his peers, which he was. Potter and Granger were Aurors now (big surprise), Weasley was doing something with dragons, Pansy had married Marcus Flint, and Blaise was now a cursebreaker for Gringotts. Draco was confident that he made more money than his friends, though realistically he knew that money wasn't everything. He enjoyed his work and he enjoyed his friends. Speaking of friends, he checked his watch. He only had a few hours before his pickup game of Quidditch with Rowan and a few other friends.

After rechecking his enchantments—damn Marisa had him doublechecking—he apparated back to his apartment.


	3. Chapter 3

"He's what?" shrieked Hermione, nearly dropping the telephone.

"He was found dead outside the Ministry this morning," said Harry, his voice choked with tears. "He was killed with the Avada Kedavra curse."

Tears sprang to Hermione's eyes, but she controlled them. Had she and Ron been getting along when this happened, she was sure that her feelings about his death would have been different. As it was, she didn't find it difficult to rein in her grief. "Who did it?" she asked quietly, a feeling of nausea creeping into her stomach. Draco had said that his revenge would be put into action soon—was this his way of getting back at the people responsible for his mother's death?

"We don't know," Harry replied, sniffling. He regained control of his emotions before he continued. "The killer used Ron's wand to kill him, and we have no leads at all."

"How's Ginny?" said Hermione concernedly.

"She's devastated," sighed Harry. "There's a lot of pressure right now for us to solve this, and everyone is suspicious of everyone else in the Ministry. It's not every day that an Auror is killed. Hermione, I need to ask you for something."

"Anything," promised Hermione. In the time after Draco had left and Rhys's trial had ended, Harry had been there for her whenever she needed someone's shoulder to cry on. She owed him a lot.

Harry took a deep breath. "I need you to find me Draco Malfoy."

"Harry—"

"Hermione," interrupted Harry, his voice shaking with barely-retrained rage, "I need you to find him. I don't care how, I don't care what you say to him, but I want him at the Ministry by the end of the day."

"He didn't tell me where—"

"Hermione!" yelled Harry, losing his temper. "Ron was our best friend for years before this! I'm not asking you to solve his murder—I'm just asking you to help me talk to a suspect. Well?" he said, when Hermione didn't reply.

"I'll do my best," she muttered.

"Thanks," said Harry, hanging up the phone.

Hermione walked slowly outside, trying to think of where she could find Draco. If he had killed Ron—which was seeming more and more likely as she thought about it—she had to bring him to Harry. As much as she liked him, there was no way that she could let her (former) best friend's murderer stay free.

Darkness nickered excitedly at seeing Hermione approach the pasture.

"Not today, Darkness," Hermione said regretfully, stroking his neck right where the big horse liked it. She gave him a few sugar cubes.

Skye headbutted Hermione playfully through the fence until she gave him some treats also. Hermione climbed the fence and sat in the grass next to Skye, who searched through her pockets for any more treats.

"I need to find Draco," she murmured, absently stroking the unicorn's soft golden fur. She longed to find him not only because of Harry's need, but because of seeing him the day before. She had had a taste of him, and she desperately wanted more. She missed him greatly. She sighed sadly.

As Hermione's need for him reached an agonizing level, Skye suddenly looked her directly in the eyes, his gaze somehow intensifying. His deep blue eyes suddenly shifted to silver, and everything around Hermione began to shimmer like the air above asphalt on a scorching hot summer day. Only Skye seemed to stay solid, and as everything slowly blurred into nothingness, Hermione whispered, "What's happening?" Her hand seemed to be stuck on Skye's back like it had been magnetized.

The world slowly came into focus again, but Hermione and Skye weren't in the same place anymore. Where before, they had been sitting in the grass in the bright, warming sun, they were now on the cold cement floor of a large, dark room.

Hermione stood up, bewildered. Her hand came free of Skye's warm body. The unicorn looked at her expectantly, as if waiting for approval.

"Where are we?" she asked softly, petting Skye's neck and handing him another sugar cube. She looked around curiously, shivering slightly. It was rather chilly in the room, which had many enormous crates scattered about. It was a warehouse. She didn't know if there was anyone else in the room, for the crates were much taller than her.

Hermione began walking towards the empty space in the middle of the room, not bothering to take her wand out. Skye wouldn't have brought her somewhere dangerous. In direct contradiction to her thoughts, however, Skye nearly tripped her as he tried to press against her for reassurance. He didn't like the dim, cold room any more than she did.

"It's okay," she whispered, patting his back. "No one can see you, anyway, unless I tell them you're there. I'm your Secret Keeper."

Hermione walked into the center of the room. As she set foot into the circle in the middle, a red light began flashing on the ceiling. "What?" she said in confusion, realizing belatedly that she had just set off some sort of alarm.

She saw a flash of blonde hair, a streak of red light, and felt a tremendous force send her flying backwards over twenty feet until she slammed into a heavy wooden crate. Her head connected hard with the crate and then…blackness.

Draco returned from the muggle hardware store with a large crate of goods in his arms. He checked to make sure that he was not being followed before he slipped into the warehouse in Belfast, Ireland, that he and his father were currently using as their home/headquarters. He approached the middle of the room, pausing first to deactivate the alarm so that he wouldn't set it off.

Draco and Lucius had pinpointed the center of the room as the likely place for anyone to apparate into. Their alarm would alert them of any intruders that they could then dispose of as needed. No one had yet found them.

"Father?" he called, his voice low as he sat down on the ground in the center of the circle, where there was the most light. He began taking the items out of the crate.

A few seconds passed before Lucius joined him. He seemed to have aged ten years in the time since his wife had been killed in his arms. He now quite resembled the Death Eater that he had been in the old days of Voldemort.

"Sorry, son," he said quietly, magically removing the blood from his white button-up shirt. "I had a little matter I needed to take care of." 

"Someone found us?" asked Draco in alarm, pausing in his movements as he looked at the blood on his father's shirt.

"Just a witch," replied Lucius, waving his hand in dismissal. "She's in the back, so you can interrogate her whenever you want to."

"I'll do it in a minute," replied Draco. "I got everything you asked for, except for the aluminum wire, because they were out of it. I got magnesium wire instead."

"That will do just fine," Lucius said, rummaging through the things that Draco had brought.

"Where did you get the recipe for this?" Draco asked. "Will something so primitive even work?"

"Don't fret, Draco," scolded Lucius. "Yes, it'll work! And then those Ministry murderers will be exposed for what they truly are. You can go check the intruder now—I can begin this first stage on my own."

Draco stood, brushed his clothes off, drew his wand, and headed for the back of the warehouse, where there was a little room that they used for storing food and supplies. In the center of the tiny room, there was a crumpled figure lying on the ground.

Draco muttered, "Lumos," to see the witch more clearly. Even the light from his wand was insufficient, as she was lying on her stomach. Commanding a ball of floating light to hover around the ceiling, Draco turned the limp girl over easily. Her face was streaked with blood, and her brown hair covered most of her face. He dragged her out of the room to take a better look at her.

He felt in the pockets of the girl's jeans and retrieved a wand and a few sickles. He lifted the girl's head up to examine the back of her head, which was the source of the blood on her face. A large, bruised gash was bleeding sluggishly in the back of her head. _ "Episkey,"_ he said, healing the wound and any broken part of her skull.

He pulled off his jacket and placed it under her head. Just because she was an intruder didn't mean that he was going to hurt her. His father was paranoid of Aurors finding them and tended to overreact when he was suspicious. Draco himself had been cursed once when he'd accidentally tripped the alarm and his father had struck without thinking. The girl stirred, letting out a small moan of pain. Draco pushed the hair away that was obscuring her face so he could see more clearly.

Hermione came to, feeling a pain in her head so intense that she moaned, feeling nauseous. There was something sticky on her face, but she couldn't tell what it was. Something moved the hair out of her eyes and she heard a gasp.

"Hermione?"

She opened her eyes, blinking slowly. The person who had spoken moved away from her vision for a few seconds and then came back, holding a small glass with a potion in it.

"Drink this," the person holding the glass said urgently.

Hermione opened her mouth and allowed the contents of the glass to be poured down her throat. A sweeping feeling of coolness rushed through her head, erasing the pain entirely. "Thank you," she said gratefully, sitting up. Her head spun for a moment, but soon she was able to see clearly. "Draco?"

Draco pulled her into his arms, kissing the top of her head. "I'm so so so very sorry," he murmured, holding her tightly.

Hermione closed her eyes and let him hug her, losing herself in his embrace. "Did you attack me?" she asked, her voice muffled in his chest as she trembled.

"No," he said, letting go of her so that he could look her in the eye. "My father didn't know who you were. We have to be wary of intruders… Here, _tergeo!"_

The sticky feeling disappeared as the blood on her face vanished. Draco held her until her shaking subsided. When she looked able to answer questions, he asked a little uncomfortably, "How did you find me?" If she could find him, chances were that the Aurors would be able to as well.

"Skye somehow—" She paused, looking around. "Where's Skye?"

"What?" asked Draco. He leaned forward to feel her forehead for any trace of fever.

"I'm not sick!" she snapped, pushing his hand away. "Skye!" she called.

Seconds later, Skye trotted out of the back room, an apple in his teeth. He had been rooting through the boxes of food and supplies in the room. He nuzzled Hermione's hand affectionately.

"What are you talking about?" Draco said, completely bemused.

"Skye's right here," Hermione said. As she said it, Draco could suddenly see Skye standing beside them. "I put a Fidelius Charm on him."

Draco looked from Hermione to Skye and back to Hermione, sighing. "I have no idea what is going on."

Hermione explained the events of that day, telling him how Skye had somehow sensed her need and transported her to this place.

"He took you to me just because you were _wishing_ for it?" asked Draco, shocked. "I knew he was going to have special powers, but… That's beyond anything I suspected."

Hermione folded her arms over her chest, feeling her temper rise. "You need to tell me _everything_," she insisted. "I'm sick of being kept in the dark all the time! You tell me to protect a unicorn foal with my life without telling me why. Do I even mean anything to you? You've seen me exactly once since you used me for your escape from the Ministry, and it sure seemed like you missed me, yet you don't say anything about when you're coming back. You've been holed up in this dark warehouse for over two months now, and I don't even know why! And now—and now, Ron's dead, and I'm having severe suspicions of your involvement." She ended her tirade, breathing hard as she watched Draco's face.

His emotions had showed clearly in his eyes while she spoke, and he went from frustrated to sad to stubborn to completely shocked as she said the final sentence.

"Weasley's dead?" he repeated, a smirk flickering around his mouth. "Good riddance, but I had nothing to do with it." 

Hermione looked unconvinced. "I have to bring you to Harry. He wants to question you."

Draco's face hardened and he snarled, "And how are you planning on doing that? I'm not talking to Potter."

"Please?" asked Hermione, gazing up at him with big brown eyes that threatened to melt away Draco's anger. "If you're innocent, then it won't be a problem."

"Have you forgotten the fact that I'm wanted by the Ministry on several charges?" growled Draco in reply.

"I'm sure they won't—"

"Forget it."

Hermione lowered her gaze to the ground, saddened. Harry would be so upset with her, but she was convinced that Draco had nothing to do with Ron's death. Unless he was a very good actor, then he was completely shocked at hearing the news.

"I can answer your other questions, though," Draco said, his tone softening slightly. Hermione looked up, still disappointed, but very interested. "The night that my father purchased Skye, he was followed home by a strange man. In the middle of the night, I was awoken by a scream. When I reached the barn, there was a man standing over the body of the night stable guard. He fled before I could do anything. I put the strongest protections I could around Skye and thought that would be the end of it. I attempted to do some research on unicorn foals, but I was hindered wherever I went. Books that had such information mysteriously disappeared from bookstores and libraries, and even the Ministry of Magic records had been raided. After much difficulty, I located a reputable unicorn expert who nearly killed me when I knocked on her door. Turns out that someone had tried to kill her twice before during that week. When I finally persuaded her to talk to me, she would say only that every so often—not more than once every hundred years—a unicorn is born with uniquely special powers. These powers can be used to destroy entire nations, if used for ill. Most of the time, however, the unicorn foal stays with its mother until it reaches adulthood, when the powers fade. In this occurrence, obviously, Skye's mother was killed and he was found by wizards. He can be identified as the foal with these special powers by his stub of a horn. Normal unicorn foals don't grow their horns at all until the age of four. She wouldn't say what his powers are, only that they 'transcend time and space.' I tried and tried, but I couldn't get Skye to reveal his powers." Draco paused, looking at Hermione's thoughtful expression. "So that answers your question about unicorns."

Deep in thought, Hermione didn't say anything for a few minutes. Skye finished munching his apple and lay down next to her, putting his face in her lap. She petted him absently. "What about what you're doing here?" Hermione asked slowly, filing the information that Draco had told her about Skye into the back of her mind for later perusal.

Draco winced. "In short, we're making a bomb," he admitted. "Using a muggle recipe, we're going to make a bomb and imbue it with magical powers. It's going to be set off in the middle of the Ministry of Magic entranceway, next to the Fountain of Magical Brethren. It's going to blow the atrium to pieces and replace the Fountain with a gigantic picture of my mother. My father wants to honor her memory."

Hermione gasped. "That's terrible!"

Before Draco could defend himself, there was a quick succession of loud cracks behind Hermione.

She whipped around, drawing her wand, to see Harry Potter and _Ron Weasley_ there, with about twenty Aurors standing behind them.


	4. Chapter 4

The Aurors and Ron all wore black robes, but Ron's did not have the Auror badge on them, as he had been removed from his status in magical law enforcement.

"RON!" screamed Hermione, her face red. Sparks shot out of her wand in her anger and shock.

"They're here!" Draco bellowed, alerting his father.

Skye jumped to his feet, quivering, and hid behind Hermione, though nobody could see him but Hermione and Draco.

"Put the wand down!" yelled an Auror, who immediately disarmed Hermione and threw her wand to Ron.

She flew at Ron with her fists, but Ron restrained her easily and pulled her back as all the Aurors and Harry moved forward to apprehend Draco.

Draco dropped his wand before they reached him.

"Don't move, Malfoy," spat another Auror. They all moved slowly towards him, but Draco did nothing more than drop to his knees and put his hands on his head. He knew when he was caught. His grey eyes burned into Hermione's, making her flinch at the naked rage she saw reflected there.

Ten of the Aurors explored the warehouse to make sure there was no one else there. Draco was the only one wanted for any sort of crime, so they didn't much care if Lucius Malfoy had escaped. Indeed, the warehouse was empty but for Draco and Hermione.

"Clear, sir," said one of the Aurors to Harry. "Nothing here but these two and a bunch of food in that room there."

Harry nodded. As he turned around, his eyes locked with Hermione's and he winced; she furious. "Bring her to my house," he said to Ron, who nodded.

"I didn't know, I swear!" Hermione called desperately to Draco. He stood silently inside a triangle of three Aurors, his arms bound behind his back and a shimmering circle around him that prevented apparition. His gaze was steady and cold.

The Aurors waited while Harry read out the customary warrant for Draco's arrest. Draco didn't appear to listen—his eyes seemed to be penetrating Hermione's soul. She wondered if he was using Legilimency on her. Finally, just as Harry nodded for the Aurors to take Draco to Azkaban, Draco sighed and said quietly, "I know."

As soon as the Aurors disappeared, Ron pulled Hermione into Side-Along Apparition to Harry's house. They reappeared in the living room. Harry wasn't there yet, and the house was silent. Hermione shoved his arms off of her.

"How could you?" she asked him, her eyes filling with tears. "I thought you were_ dead_."

"So what?" snapped Ron bitterly. "It's not like you'd have cared."

"I would care if you DIED!" retorted Hermione, her arms hugging herself tightly as she felt like she was going to fall apart. "How could you do that to me?"

Her voice broke as her eyes pleaded with him for an answer that wouldn't break her heart.

Ron's face softened and he took a step towards her. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "It's just—I miss being an Auror so badly, and if I helped capture such a wanted criminal, I could maybe get my job back. It's all I have. And I didn't think it would matter very much to you, since you didn't seem to care about me anymore anyway."

"Did you care about me?" asked Hermione softly. "Draco means a lot to me, and if you actually think about it, he did nothing wrong. You had no right to barge into his house with your Aurors and kill his mother, whether or not it was accidental. He attacked you in a rage of grief over his dead mother."

"I do care about you," Ron groaned. "I just don't know how to show you that I do, after everything that's happened in the past. Can we just put everything behind us? Please?" He stood before her dejectedly, his arms down by his side limply. Tears shone in the corners of his blue eyes.

Hermione's relief that he wasn't dead was greatly eclipsed by her anger with him. A small part of her wanted to forgive him; thinking that he had died and they hadn't made up was a horrible experience. Still, though, it was all Ron's fault that Narcissa was dead and Draco had been thrown in Azkaban. "Get Draco out of Azkaban," she said angrily, not willing to consider reconciling with him until Draco was in the clear for his supposed crimes.

"I can't do that," Ron said miserably as Hermione stepped away from him. "Harry signed an arrest warrant on him, and there's no way to take it back. He has to await trial in Azkaban and then has to go through the whole legal process. And he did do something wrong, okay? He attacked Aurors and then resisted arrest. On top of that, he threatened you! If we hadn't put a Location Charm on you this time, who knows how we might have found you? How can you have feelings for someone who clearly doesn't care about you?"

"He does care about me," snapped Hermione.

"Then where has he been for months?" Ron pointed out calmly. "Why didn't he just go to the Ministry and clear things up instead of going on the run?"

Before Hermione could respond, Harry apparated into the living room and began talking the second his feet hit the floor. "Hermione, I'm really sorry that—"

"You know what, Harry? Just stop it," growled Hermione, still hurt by Ron's questions about Draco—mostly because it was those very same questions that she constantly asked herself. "I can't _believe_ you would lie to me about something like that, and I don't want to talk to you right now, if ever. Why would you lie to me about someone's _death?_ Are you completely insane?"

"I just wanted to help Ron get his job back," Harry said weakly, looking very upset with himself. "Malfoy'll probably be acquitted anyway."

"Unbelievable," said Hermione, shaking her head. "How can you call yourself my friend?"

"Hermione, he'll be out in a few days, and everything will be—"

"How do I visit Azkaban?" she asked them, her eyes fierce. She was afraid of what she would do if she tried to listen to their pathetic explanations much longer.

"You don't want to go there!" protested Ron. "It's the worst place—" He froze at seeing the stubborn expression on her face.

"I'll write you a permission form for prisoner visitation," sighed Harry. "I'll owl it to you when I get it, but it won't be for a few days."

"Fine. Give me my wand."

Ron gave her wand back and managed to apologize three more times before she disapparated.

"We're fucked," Harry stated gloomily once she had left. Ron nodded dismally. "But at least you're going to be reinstated as an Auror."

"You don't know how much I appreciate this, Harry," said Ron quietly. "I know it was hard for you to lie to her."

"I didn't do it only for you," Harry said. "Malfoy doesn't care about her, no matter what he's made her believe. I mean, he _threatened_ her to make his escape from the Ministry! She's been through so much, and the longer he's behind bars, the safer she'll be. We have to do what's best for her. We made the mistake once of trusting her choice in men. I won't let that happen again."

Ron nodded gravely. "Neither will I."

"And, Ron, the jealousy needs to go," Harry said firmly. "She's never going to let us protect her if she thinks everything you do is motivated by jealousy."

"I'll do my best," muttered Ron, pinning his badge on his robes and leaving Harry's office.

Hermione reappeared in her house. Before she could even think about everything that had happened, a thought jolted into her mind. _Skye!_ What had happened to him? None of the Aurors had been able to see him, so where had the little unicorn gone? Hermione tried to apparate to the warehouse where they had all been but she was unable to do so, since she didn't know the exact location of it. She tried everything she could think of, working tirelessly for hours, but nothing worked.

Finally, she slumped back onto her sofa, exhausted tears pricking at her eyes. She glanced out the window into the pasture where Darkness was still grazing contentedly. Suddenly, a shimmering form began to take shape next to the gelding, who reared and neighed in fear. The shimmering solidified into the shape of the unicorn foal. Darkness sniffed him cautiously and snorted, recognizing his little friend. Hermione rushed outside.

"Skye!" she cried, climbing the fence into the pasture. Skye nuzzled her hand and relaxed under her touch.

Now that the unicorn was back, Hermione was free to relax for the rest of the day, though she longed for Draco. Their time together was always too short and punctuated with despair.

Three agonizing days after Draco's arrest, Hedwig flew through the window with a letter for Hermione. She ripped it open, removing a bottle cap and a permission form signed by Harry and four other officials. A note was enclosed that said, "The bottle cap is a Portkey that is set to go off at three o'clock p.m. today. Bring the permission form. Azkaban is a terrible place. Go at your own risk. Hope to hear from you soon. Love, Harry."

Hermione glanced at the clock, which read 2:59. She grabbed the paper and closed her fingers around the bottle cap just in time. Everything began spinning around her as the Portkey hurtled her through thousands of miles towards the fortress of Azkaban. As she neared the place, she felt a despair growing in her heart from the thousands of Dementors that guarded Azkaban and called it their home.

Hermione landed in front of the small wooden door that was the only entrance to the enormous stone tower where thousands of wizard prisoners were kept. She could barely hear anything with the massive waves crashing ferociously on the rocks below. She pushed the door open and walked in, trying to ignore the heavy weight that felt like it had been placed on her heart. She shivered, wishing that she had worn a cloak over her t-shirt.

A Dementor floated behind the desk, which was the only furniture in the small room. There was a large, thick steel door behind the desk that presumably led to where the prisoners were housed. Hermione pushed back her nausea and walked up to the desk.

"Papersss?" hissed the Dementor through its hood.

"_You stupid, dumb bitch!" screamed Rhys, throwing a plate of eggs and bacon at Hermione. It hit her on the cheek and splattered food all over her. "You can't do ANYTHING right!" _

Hermione stood still in shock as she watched the memory of Rhys that had risen to the surface of her brain. Tears flooded her eyes as she struggled to come back to the present and focus on the Dementor that was currently holding out a slimy hand for her permission form. "Here," she whispered, managing to hand it her paper.

The Dementor held the paper up to its face where its eyes would be and nodded. "Follow," it ordered, turning to the steel door behind it.

The door opened a tiny crack, enough for Hermione and the Dementor to fit through. They walked through, into a large metal box. The door of the box shut behind them and it began to rise quickly as the Dementor placed its hand on a gray button.

Hermione tried her best to stay focused on what she was doing, but being just feet away from a Dementor was taking its toll on her. Images of Rhys's abuse flooded her mind. By the end of the elevator ride, she was in tears.

"Thisssss way," the Dementor hissed, oblivious to—or perhaps even enjoying—her tears.

Hermione followed the Dementor blindly down dim corridors for what seemed like an hour before they stopped in front of a cell. The hooded creature opened the door with a stroke of its finger, similar to that of some vaults of Gringotts, which only open by the hand of a Gringotts goblin.

Hermione walked inside, flinching when the door slammed behind her. The room was dimly lit by a flickering light high on the ceiling. The room was about ten feet square. Huddled in a corner was Draco Malfoy, sitting on the filthy floor with his arms around his knees. He was rocking back and forth, his eyes tightly shut.

"Draco," said Hermione softly. Now that she wasn't as close to the Dementor, she was able to gather herself, though every shadow she saw looked like Rhys and memories of his abuse were constantly at the forefront of her mind.

Draco lifted his head up, revealing haunted eyes and an already-thinner face. He got to his feet shakily. "I said I'm sorry!" he yelled hoarsely, tears trickling from his eyes.

"What are you talking about?" she asked, shocked.

Draco blinked his eyes a few times, as if trying to clear something from them. "Is it really you?"

"Of course it is," said Hermione hesitantly, trying not to cry.

Draco stumbled over to her and threw his arms around her. "This is the worst place I've ever been in," he whispered into her ear. "I see my mother die over and over and over again."

The two of them clung to each other, trying to push away the terrible memories that constantly plagued them. "My trial is in two days," Draco said, his eyes wet with tears. "I don't want you there."

"Why not?" gasped Hermione. "You were there for me…"

"The picture is going to be there," replied Draco urgently, looking at her intensely. He was trying to tell her something.

"The what?"

"The plaque is going to be there," he repeated in frustration. He pointed to his ear, mouthing the words, _They can hear us._

Hermione's eyes brightened in recognition as she realized that he was talking about the picture of his mother that was going to accompany his bomb. Lucius Malfoy was going to bomb the Ministry of Magic on the day of Draco's trial, to both avenge his wife and provide a distraction for his son's escape.

"This is a bad idea," she whispered.

"It's going to happen," he said firmly.

"Just do what you're supposed to do," she pleaded. "All of this can end after your trial."

Draco's gaze hardened. "Nothing you can say will change my mind," he said firmly. "You should probably leave now."

"Do you want to be with me?" asked Hermione bluntly.

Draco hesitated. He then answered, "Yes."

"You can't be with me if you're going to do this," she stated, her brown eyes gazing deep into his. "I need someone who's going to be there for me—not on the run for the rest of his life."

Draco looked at her, clearly torn. He did not want to go through with this farce of a trial for something that he was—for the most part—innocent of. Azkaban was the worst place he had ever been to in his entire life. Every moment was hell as he was forced to relive the most terrible experiences of his life. A sentence there of any length would be too much for him to bear. Using his father's bomb as a means to escape was the only way out of this. The possibility that he might be acquitted did not even enter his mind. With Weasley and Potter at the helm, there was no way they would allow him to be released.

All the same…he greatly desired to see where this relationship with Hermione could go if they were allowed to be together. He had done his share of kissing—and more—in his life thus far, but there was something about her that made his blood rush. Just kissing her had been a thrill for him. When she kissed him, he could tell that she was kissing him with everything she had, holding nothing back. There was nothing more refreshing than that. Plus, she wasn't stupid, like many of the other women he had dated. She actually had intelligent things to say, as well as comebacks when he got too cocky with her, which he admired.

A Dementor must have walked by very close to the door, for Draco was suddenly plunged into one of his very worst memories.

_Carrying an extravagant, custom-ordered bouquet of pink roses, her very favorite, Draco unlocked the door and walked into his girlfriend's flat. He was back twelve hours early from his week-long business trip, as his last meeting of the day had been cancelled. Somewhat nervously, he walked quietly through the house, fingering the small velvet box in his pocket. He heard his girl's voice from her bedroom and smiled, thinking that she was talking to her cat as she often did. _

_Draco pushed the door open, and what a sight met his eyes. Pansy Parkinson, his girlfriend of two years ever since they had started dating at Hogwarts their sixth year, was on her bed on top of another man. Naked. As was he. She was moaning and rocking on top of him in obvious passion. The man was grunting and groaning as he took Draco's girlfriend on what sounded like the ride of her life._

_The flowers slipped from Draco's numb fingers, hitting the carpeted floor with a dull thud. Pansy froze, turning around._

"_Draco!" she gasped, struggling to pull the covers over her exposed body. _

_The man went deathly pale, getting off the bed immediately to pull on his pants._

"_You weren't supposed to be home til—"_

"_What the fuck?" Draco snapped, his pale face red with anger._

"_Don't talk to me like that! Maybe if you actually showed some sort of commitment to me, I wouldn't have to find someone else to make me feel loved!" shouted Pansy, wrapping the blankets around her. _

_The man she had been cheating on Draco with disapparated quickly._

"_For God's sake, we don't even live together!" screamed Pansy. "I suppose marriage is out of the question!"_

_Draco's heart felt like it stopped. "Jesus, Pansy, we're only nineteen! When did you want me to propose?"_

_Pansy just glared at him, not showing any remorse or guilt for what she had done._

"_Here," Draco said quietly, throwing her the velvet box from in his pocket. "I hope it makes you happy with the man you were just fucking." _

As Pansy gasped and opened the box, the memory faded, leaving Draco standing there blankly. Hermione was shaking his arm.

"Are you okay?" she asked him.

"No!" he shouted, startling her. "I'm in bloody Azkaban!"

It was then that he decided that there was no way in hell he could go through that trial and end up in Azkaban. As good as he might feel when he was with Hermione, it couldn't possibly make it worth it to go to Azkaban for any sentence that the Wizengamot might impose upon him. "I'm sorry," muttered Draco.

"It's okay," Hermione replied, smiling at him as she leaned against him gently. She thought that he was apologizing to her for snapping at her. She had no idea the thoughts running through his mind.

The two of them sat silently next to each other until the Dementor came to lead Hermione out of the prison.

Hermione spent the entire next day worrying about Draco's trial. Would Draco do the right thing? Her mood affected Darkness while she was riding him throughout the day, and the large horse fidgeted and reared.

"It's okay," she murmured, patting his neck. She strove to calm down, if only for Darkness's sake.

Skye trotted along beside her. Since the unicorn had discovered his ability to instantly change his location, he used it frequently to be with her, even when she purposely left him behind. It had taken Hermione the good part of two days to make Skye understand that he couldn't come with her when she went into the wizarding world—only when she went riding.

His pure-gold hooves made soft thuds on the ground as he moved his slender legs as quickly as he could to keep up with the gelding. Darkness seemed to know that he needed to slow down whenever Skye came with them.

Hermione, Darkness, and Skye returned home just as the sun was setting behind the mountain. Once Skye and Darkness were back in their pasture, she went to bed and dreamed uneasy dreams.


	5. Chapter 5

The next morning perfectly matched Hermione's mood—rain slammed against the windows and gusts of wind shook the house. Thunder boomed and lightning cracked overhead. A particularly loud clap of thunder startled Hermione awake, and she immediately remembered her equine friends who were out in the storm.

She rushed outside, still in her pajamas, to find Darkness and Skye pressed close to each other, soaking wet and shivering. Skye trembled and shook at every loud burst of thunder. Hermione could hear nothing but the roaring of the wind and the pattering of the rain. It took her just minutes to say the appropriate spells to create a shelter for the animals. With another spell, she dried their coats, and within minutes the animals were happy again.

Back in her room, she got dressed. "Oh, no," she murmured as she looked at her watch. It was twenty minutes past the time that Draco's trial was to start. Since it was so dreary outside, the sun shining through her windows did not wake her up as it usually did. She had decided about ten minutes after she'd left Azkaban that she was going to Draco's trial whether he liked it or not. The night before, she had practiced shield spells and was now fairly confident in her ability to put up a shield charm if she needed to protect herself from a bomb.

Hermione apparated immediately to the Ministry of Magic. As she passed the Fountain of Magical Brethren, she looked at it carefully, but there was no sign of Lucius Malfoy or any sort of explosive device. A man across the hallway appeared to be looking directly at her, but as she didn't recognize him, she put the thought aside.

She hurried to the elevators that would take her down to the courtroom levels. As the elevator doors began to shut, a wizard stuck his hand in the door and pushed inside with her. They were alone in the elevator. The wizard didn't look at her. He merely looked directly in front of him, but Hermione quickly realized that he was the man who had been staring at her in the entranceway.

She slipped her fingers into her pocket to grab her wand, just in case, but the man said brightly, "No need for that," and looked directly at her.

Those black, glinting eyes were_ very_ familiar. It was the man who had tried to drown her and steal Skye! Hermione grabbed her wand and tried to stun him, but the man ducked the spell and threw his body at her. She let out a pained grunt as she was crushed against the wall by the man. He took her wand and pressed the emergency stop button on the elevator, which shuddered to a halt.

"Help!" screamed Hermione, kicking the man as hard as she could in the shins.

The man winced and grabbed her by the neck hard.

Hermione gasped for air. "What—do you—want?"

"I want that unicorn, Granger," snarled the man, lifting her off the ground by her neck.

Hermione clawed at the hand on her neck. "Who—are —you?"

"No need for you to know," came the sneered reply.

Just as Hermione's eyes began to roll back in her head, a violent explosion rocked the building. The force of the explosion shook the elevator, forcing the man to let go of Hermione. Without warning, the elevator car suddenly plummeted as the cables snapped.

The man took one last look at her and disapparated. Hermione fumbled on the floor, searching for her wand. She spotted it and lunged for it. Her fingers closed around the smooth wood just as the elevator slammed into the ground floor. She had no time to disapparate before the elevator crumpled in around her.

A terrible, pounding pain finally brought Hermione back to consciousness. Her head was aching more painfully than she had ever felt before in her life. She could see absolutely nothing. She tried to move her limbs but quickly figured out that she was pinned under what felt like heavy pieces of metal. Her right leg was completely numb.

She tried to call for help, but her voice was frail. Dust swarmed into her mouth the moment she opened it, prompting a long coughing spasm that lasted for nearly a minute. Hermione heard voices, and she listened hard.

"Lucky you, the explosion hit right before the verdict," said a deep, male voice.

"You could've just left, and no one would know the difference," said a hoarse woman's voice. "It's not like_ you_ were being guarded by Dementors."

"I've been on the run for too long," replied a cool male voice. "It gets wearying." Hermione recognized that smooth, drawling tone. "What are you two here for, anyway?" continued Draco.

Their voices weren't getting closer or farther away, so they must be standing somewhere near, Hermione thought dazedly.

"My husband was accidentally—ahem—smothered," replied the woman. "You're braver than I am. If I'd been in that courtroom when the explosion went off, I would be far away from here right now, instead of chained to this stupid wall. But no, I was waiting for my turn at trial with a room full of Dementors."

"At least neither of you are facing execution," said the first male voice, his deep voice grim.

"Draco!" Hermione tried to call.

"How long do you think we'll be chained here?" the woman asked.

"As long as it takes to dig people out of the wreckage," sneered Draco. "And if the entire building looks like that elevator does, I'd say it'll be awhile."

Hermione choked the dust out of her throat and called Draco's name again. It was apparent that he couldn't hear her.

Hermione tried to shift some of the wreckage off of her, but the heavy steel beams were way beyond her control. She felt herself slipping into unconsciousness from the thin air and heavy pressure on her chest. When she woke up again, she had no idea how much time had passed.

"There are 16,872 ceiling tiles in this hallway!" said the familiar female criminal's voice, sounding quite pleased with herself.

"Please. Shut. Up," drawled Draco, who clearly had had to listen to this for quite some time now.

Hermione heard a clatter of chains. _"Skye?"_ hissed Draco.

Hermione stiffened. Had she heard right? Was Skye here? She heard a snuffling sound, as well as hooves clicking on the marble floor around the wreckage of the elevator.

"Skye!" she cried, hoping that the little foal could somehow let Draco know that she was here.

"Oh, Merlin," whispered Draco, sounding like he was about to faint. "There's blood coming from that elevator over there."

"So?" said the other man. "A bomb went off—people are bound to be hurt."

"There's only one reason for Skye to be here," whispered Draco, talking quietly to himself. "Damn it! He was supposed to wait until everyone was gone—we agreed to wait until nightfall!" he cried. "HEY!"

Draco began yelling as loudly as he could. He got the others to join in after a few moments.

Hermione lay still, wondering if someone would respond to the call of three accused criminals.

Finally, she heard a new voice, though it was quite familiar. "What the hell is it?" snapped Ron Weasley.

"There's someone in the elevator," Draco snapped back.

"So?" replied Ron rudely. "There are people trapped all over the place, as well as a picture of your mother floating in the entranceway of the Ministry! You want to tell me you aren't responsible for this?"

"I was in front of you in the courtroom when it went off, and in your custody for the past four days," Draco snarled. When Ron looked unconvinced, Draco said urgently, "Weasley, it's Hermione in there!"

"What?" gasped Ron.

Hermione heard footsteps approach the elevator. "Hermione!" he shouted, his voice shrill with fear.

"Ron!" Hermione called back, her voice weak.

"I'm coming, Hermione! Why the fuck are there horseshoe-shaped bloody prints?" Ron muttered to himself.

Hermione heard Ron grunting as he began removing pieces of metal from inside the ruined elevator shaft.

"Weasley, let me help," said Draco urgently.

"And have you escape?" panted Ron. "No way."

"I didn't run before, did I?" was the angry reply.

Ron toiled by himself for a few more moments, but Hermione soon heard the clinking of chains. There were now two sets of hands working on getting her out of the wreckage. Light suddenly flooded into Hermione's face as someone removed a piece of metal that had been blocking her vision.

"Hermione," breathed Draco, stroking her forehead. He was suddenly shoved away by Ron.

"I'll get you out as soon as possible," Ron promised.

Ten minutes later, they had removed enough of the wreckage to pull Hermione up and out. Draco gripped Hermione under the armpits and began to slowly pull.

"Stop!" screamed Hermione as she felt an agonizing pain where her right leg joined her hip. "My leg's trapped," she gasped.

Skye let out an anxious whinny. Ron looked around quickly, looking for the source of the sound.

"Go home," Hermione said firmly to Skye.

Ron looked at her worriedly, clearly thinking that she was delirious. Skye shimmered into nonexistence.

It took them fifteen more minutes to remove all of the wreckage from around Hermione. She lay prone at the bottom of the elevator shaft, unable to move.

"Oh, God," gasped Ron as he saw her leg.

Hermione turned her head to look, but Draco quickly grabbed her face between his hands. "You don't need to see that. It'll be okay. Weasley, go get help."

Ron hesitated a moment.

"Please, Ron," Hermione said, her voice very faint.

Ron disapparated immediately.

"Why did you come here?" Draco asked, his voice agonized. "I told you—I warned you!"

"I couldn't let you b-be a-a-alone," whispered Hermione. Her entire body began to shake violently.

Draco held her hand tightly, resting his other hand on her cheek. "You're going to be fine," he promised.

"You-you stayed," she said, comprehending his presence. "You c-could've escaped."

"I'd rather have you," stated Draco simply.

Cracks of apparition sounded all around them as Harry, Ron, and Healers appeared.

"She's going into shock," Draco said quietly, trying not to frighten Hermione.

"Get back, criminal," snapped an Auror, striking Draco hard in the face. Draco fell backwards; his lip began to bleed.

"Hey!" barked Harry. "Another move like that and you won't have your job anymore! Get the others back to containment. Leave him alone—he's already been sentenced."

Draco looked at Harry in surprise.

"Your sentence is ten years in Azkaban, Malfoy," said Harry, rolling his eyes. "_But_ it's been suspended as long as you don't set so much as one toe out of line for the next ten years."

Draco's relief was plain on his face.

"It's not my doing, Malfoy," Harry said quickly, as if not wanting to have a part in any good fortune towards Malfoy. "That would have been the verdict if there had been time to declare it."

Hermione let out a scream as the Healers tried to move her leg, which was twisted in a very abnormal direction. She blacked out from the intense pain.

"He was after Skye again!" were the first words out of Hermione's lips when she woke up in St. Mungo's hospital hours later. Her leg felt like pins and needles were going through it.

Draco's head shot up from his hands. "What?"

"The man who's after Skye! He was in the elevator!" Hermione exclaimed.

"You need to take it easy, Ms. Granger," said a Healer, coming by to feel her head and consult her chart. "We've managed to regrow the bones in your right leg, but you'll have to stay here for the night while the bones set."

"Okay," agreed Hermione, waiting until the Healer was out of the room to continue talking to Draco.

His hair was messy and he looked like he hadn't slept in days, though since he was in Azkaban, that was probably true. He still wore the suit that he had gone to the trial in, proving that he hadn't gone home since.

"He was at the Ministry of Magic in the elevator with me," she explained urgently. "He wanted Skye. I don't know what he would've done if the bomb hadn't gone off. He disapparated, but I couldn't get to my wand in time before the elevator hit the bottom. Why does he want Skye so badly?"

"I'll do my best to find out," Draco promised, stroking her cheek.

Hermione didn't say anything for a moment, closing her eyes and enjoying the feeling of Draco's smooth fingers on her face. Draco thought she had fallen asleep until she murmured, "Where's your father?"

Draco glanced furtively around the room to make sure that it was empty but for them. "I haven't had a chance to try and find him. There's a warrant out for his arrest right now, and I'm sure Potter's going to be here any moment to interrogate me."

"How many people were hurt?"

A shadow crossed Draco's face. "Too many. He visited me in Azkaban several hours after you did, and I told him to wait until nighttime so that no one innocent would be hurt. Visitors can't come to the Ministry after 8 p.m., and therefore, the only people who would be hurt are Aurors, who were the people responsible for my mother's death anyway. I told him that I wasn't going to run away from my trial. I just don't know why he didn't listen to me. Two people were killed and at least seven others are here in critical condition."

Hermione winced.

"I'm just glad you're okay," said Draco tenderly. "I promise I'll never put you in danger again."

The door to the hospital wing slammed open to reveal Ron and Harry.

Ron rushed immediately to Hermione, while Harry followed at a more sedate pace towards Draco.

"I see you've been reinstated as an Auror," said Hermione blithely.

"Are you okay?" asked Ron, ignoring her veiled insult. "You have no idea how much it scared me to see you lying there under all that metal. I thought you were dead."

"I have to stay here overnight, but I'll be just fine. What happened to your hands?" she gasped, seeing blood dripping down from his fingernails.

"Oh," said Ron, trying to tuck his hands in his pockets. "I—uh—hurt my hands digging you out."

Hermione reached for his hands, examining them. Ron had shredded all the skin on his fingers in his herculean efforts to get her out quickly from under the wreckage of the elevators. She struggled to continue her wrath towards him, but the knowledge that he had hurt himself while trying to save her, coupled with the memory of his terrified face when he first found out that she had been trapped there, made it nearly impossible. "You need to get that looked at," she said softly.

Ron noticed the change in her demeanor and looked directly at her, promising with his eyes that he would never hurt her again. He hoped that she understood. "I will," he promised, "just as soon as Harry's done."

They both looked over towards Harry, who had gone to the opposite side of the room with Draco. Draco looked quite contemptuous and appeared to be answering Harry's questions rudely and incompletely. Harry finally threw up his hands in exasperation and walked over to Hermione.

"You'd think he'd want to help us find the man who blew up half the Ministry and ended up hurting you," Harry said loudly to Hermione.

Draco sneered at Harry and left the room.

"We're going to find the person who did this, Hermione," Harry promised her. "I know you're still mad at me for lying to you, but I promise that I'll make it up to you."

Hermione looked away from him.

Harry sighed. "Come on, Ron."

"I'll see you around, Hermione," Ron said to Hermione, hoping that she had forgiven him after all he'd done to try to save her. He wasn't completely disappointed, for she nodded noncommittally at him.

Once Ron and Harry had gone, Draco came back inside the room.

"Did you forgive them?" he asked, his voice betraying no emotions.

"I think so," she replied helplessly. "Just Ron."

Draco rolled his eyes.

"He put aside his jealousy and set you free to help get me out," she reminded him. "I can't believe he was able to make himself do that. Plus, did you see his hands? He nearly killed himself trying to save me…"

"It's your decision, of course," muttered Draco, clearly disapproving of her change of heart.

"Now that you're free, what are you going to do?" asked Hermione, changing the subject.

"The first thing I'm going to do is find out who wants that unicorn so badly," said Draco, a shadow crossing his pale features. "And then kill him."

A Healer that Hermione hadn't seen before entered the room, pursing her lips as she saw Hermione and Draco talking animatedly. "You need to _rest,_ Miss Granger," she said sternly. "Here, drink this." She held out a cup filled with a very thin-looking black liquid.

"What is it?" asked Hermione, with some trepidation.

"A potion to help alleviate the uncomfortable feeling in your leg," replied the Healer impatiently. She pressed the cup to Hermione's lips.

Scowling at the Healer's bedside manner—or lack thereof—Hermione tilted her head back to allow the Healer to pour the potion down her throat. A strong menthol sensation swept through her body.

"Mint isn't used in healing potions," she said uneasily, struggling to stay alert as the potion made her limbs feel incredibly heavy.

"What are you talking—" Draco began, but quickly reached for his wand as the Healer aimed her own wand at him.

"Expelliarmus!"

Draco's wand went flying across the room. He lunged for the faux Healer, but she quickly cast the Body-Binding Curse on him. Draco fell heavily to the floor, unable to move.

Hermione tried to reach for her wand, which was just a few inches away on the bedside table, but the potion was steadily sweeping through her. Her brain was fuzzy, and though she was inwardly screaming at her arm to move towards her wand, her arm refused to move.

The woman pulled the blankets back and picked Hermione up in arms that were much too muscular for a woman. Hermione fought to move through her paralyzed haze. The "woman" paused for a moment, aimed her wand at herself, and muttered, "Finite Incantatem." The womanly features faded away, revealing the very familiar face of the man who had accosted Hermione in the elevator. He looked down at Draco, a sneer twisting his mouth, and said softly, "I hope you enjoy the present I left you at her house, Mr. Malfoy. Consider it a warning of what I will do to her if you do not deliver the unicorn to me."

Draco's eyes narrowed in rage, but he was helpless to say or do anything.

"I've done my research," the man continued, his eyes alight with malevolence. "You have feelings for this witch, don't you?" He slowly licked Hermione's cheek, watching the blood rush to Draco's face as he strained to be free of the curse and murder the man in front of him. She shivered, trying to scream and pull away, but her body didn't obey. "Well," he said briskly, "I assume I'll be getting that unicorn fairly soon, so 'til then…" He bowed mockingly to Draco and disapparated.


	6. Chapter 6

When they appeared at their destination, Hermione recognized their surroundings immediately. A cold chill swept through her as she looked around the living room of her old house that she had once shared with Rhys.

"Yes," sneered the man, answering her unspoken question. "And who would think to look for you here?"

Hermione tried to speak, but she was still under the effects of the potion and was unable to make her muscles move.

"Your precious Mr. Malfoy will discover soon enough the little gift I left for him at your house," her captor said, a maniacal glint in his eyes. "Until then, I simply have to wait."

He dropped Hermione unceremoniously on the floor, ignoring the small cry she let out at the jarring impact. As he sat down and turned on the television, Hermione could do nothing but remain prone on the ground as she waited for the potion to wear off. Fear and anger rushed through her body in hot waves. She dreaded the knowledge of what had been left at her house. She didn't fear for herself at all—rather, she was petrified that Draco would give in and relinquish Skye. The last thing that Hermione wanted in the world was to have Skye's innocence and purity in the hands of this terrible, evil man.

She used the time she had to formulate a plan that she could use to overcome this man. Time seemed to pass much too slowly, but eventually, a tingling warmth began to spread through her limbs. Slowly, and then faster and faster, her muscle control returned and she managed to get to her knees.

Above her, sitting on the sofa, the man looked down scornfully. "Wearing off, is it? Don't cause me any trouble or I'll give you some more."

"I need to go to the bathroom," she lied, pasting a look of discomfort on her face.

The man wrinkled his nose in disgust. "Let's go, then," he growled, grabbing her roughly by the arm.

He pulled her down the hallway to the bathroom and shoved her through the door. "Five minutes," he snarled, slamming the door.

Hermione quickly locked the door, triumph on her features. For this was the bathroom door that she had enchanted long ago when she was married to Rhys, which would allow only the person who locked the door to unlock it again—no amount of magic would make it open.

Now that she had made it this far, she decided to try to summon Skye. Though she had no wand, the unicorn had a peculiar way of sensing when he was needed, like when he had come to help her in the elevator.

Hermione focused all her energy on Skye, thinking only about him and how much she needed him right at that moment. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she strained to call Skye to her. No more than a minute passed before a familiar shimmering started to appear in the air. Skye shimmered into being, nickering anxiously as he nuzzled her. Blood coated his muzzle and hooves; his eyes were wide with fear.

"What happened?" she whispered, terrified.

Skye tossed his head and pranced nervously, his golden hooves clicking on the tile floor.

"What's going on in there?" screamed Roran, obviously hearing the hooves. "Damn it!" 

The door shivered under the impact of his spells.

"Take me there!" Hermione cried, putting her hand on Skye's back. As the door exploded inwards, Skye and Hermione shimmered into nonbeing.

They reappeared in the pasture outside of Hermione's house. Darkness lay on his side, soaked in blood that spread around him in an enormous puddle.

"Oh, Merlin," whispered Hermione, tears in her eyes. "Skye," she said to the distressed foal, "I need you to protect me while I check on him, okay? I don't have a wand."

Skye could make no reply, obviously, but Hermione trusted him to keep her safe as she slowly approached the unmoving gelding.

"Oh, Darkness," she sighed, crying as she realized that it was too late for her to do anything. The faithful horse was dead; he had been stabbed multiple times. "I'm going to kill him," she whispered fiercely, wiping away her tears. "I am going to fucking KILL him."

Skye whinnied in sorrow, rising up on his hind legs before coming back down heavily on all fours. He pressed his muzzle against Hermione for reassurance, but the grief-stricken girl could offer him no more than she could give herself.

"I need my wand," said Hermione thickly, as she contemplated how long it would take her to get back to St. Mungo's to get her wand.

"Hermione!" cried a familiar voice, coming from her house.

Draco threw open the door and ran to her. He swept her up in his arms and carried her into the house, away from the lifeless corpse of the great black horse. Skye followed, heedless of the mud that his hooves tracked into the house.

Draco sat down on the sofa with Hermione in his lap. He planted soft kisses all over her face and neck, soothing the distraught woman. Hermione clung to him with all her strength, giving herself over entirely to his embrace.

"Are you okay?" he murmured, running his hands over her body to check for tender spots. "Did he hurt you?"

"No, no," she replied. She buried her face in his neck and sighed. "But he'll be back here soon, you know he will! He killed Darkness…"

"I know," Draco said, his throat tight. "Here's your wand. We need to get you and Skye to a safer place than here. I…ahem…made some preparations."

Hermione heard someone walking down the hallway. "I've got her things," said the red-haired man. Ron's face tightened as he saw Hermione sitting in Draco's lap, but he showed no other sign that it bothered him. "We need to move soon."

Hermione looked from Ron to Draco, her mouth open in disbelief. "You can't seriously think—"

"We can and we do," Ron interrupted gently. "You aren't safe here. I can't believe you managed to escape before we came after you, but we can't count on that happening twice."

"The man is a psychopath," said Draco, his eyes intense. "You saw what he did to Darkness. The Ministry is the only place with safehouses strong enough to protect you. I had to call him."

"Draco, he killed Darkness," insisted Hermione, standing up furiously. "You can't expect me to hide in safety—I'm going after him!"

"You're doing nothing of the sort," snapped Draco in reply. "I've almost lost you too many times already."

Hermione thought she saw someone at the window, but when she looked again, no one was there. She returned her attention to the argument. "I'm not going!" she yelled, her hand on Skye's back. "Sorry, Draco. Sorry, Ron."

She whipped her wand up and cast two stunning charms in rapid succession at Draco and Ron. They were expertly aimed, but when they reached their targets, the red beams of light simply dissipated, leaving Draco and Ron untouched.

"Hermione," said Ron disappointedly, "I can't believe you would do that to us. I guess the shield capes were a good idea."

Draco sighed in exasperation and disarmed Hermione while she stood staring at him, shocked that her stunning charms hadn't worked.

"Get away from me!" she shrieked, backing away from them.

"NO!" Draco yelled as he saw the telltale shimmering of Skye's teleportation powers. He lunged towards her, but he was too late. His arms closed on empty air as Hermione and the unicorn foal disappeared.

"No," whispered Hermione as she reappeared with Skye on a snowy mountain peak high above the earth. "Skye, you shouldn't have done that! I have no wand, and if Roran comes after me, I'll have no way to defend myself!"

The foal gazed back at her, his blue eyes wide. With a sudden small POP!, her wand appeared in the snow in front of her.

"Your powers scare me sometimes, you know that?" Hermione said softly, stroking Skye's soft neck. She cast a warming spell on herself and sat down on the ground to think. "I need to go after him, but I can't bring you with. That would be playing right into his hands."

Skye made a strange whistling noise that she had never heard before. His small body began to vibrate with a strange sensation that traveled up Hermione's arm and pulsed through her whole being. An inescapable feeling of power pulled at her body until she felt herself lift off the mountaintop and hurtle through space. Hermione closed her eyes tightly as she kept a tight grip on Skye's neck. The spinning sensation stopped, and Hermione opened her eyes again. They weren't on the mountain anymore. Instead, they were outside a large mansion. It was Malfoy Manor! 

"Why did you bring us here?" she asked, not troubling to keep her voice down, as Malfoy Manor would surely be empty.

"What was that, darling?" murmured a cultured female voice coming from a nearby first floor window. Hermione ducked down quickly below the window. Skye followed her.

"Probably just a bird," replied Draco's voice. Sounds of passionate kissing followed this, and Hermione chanced a peek through the window.

Draco Malfoy was lying on a sofa in the sun, lazily kissing a half-dressed Pansy Parkinson. Hermione was ready to stand up and hit him until she realized that something was off. It was supposed to be summer, yet all the leaves had fallen from the trees and the air was slightly chilly. Also, as she looked in the distance, towards where her house would be, she saw nothing. Her house was gone! It hadn't even been built yet. 

"Skye," she hissed, ducking down beneath the window once more. "You took us back in time?"

The unicorn tossed his head.

"Why here?" she asked, thinking hard. There had to be a reason.

"Draco, when do you think we'll get married?" asked Pansy, letting out soft moans of satisfaction as Draco nuzzled her neck.

Hermione heard Draco sigh. "It's a big decision, Pans. I don't want to make it lightly."

"Ugh. Fine."

That feeling of power rushed through Hermione again and she felt them leaping through time once more. They reappeared in a dark place. Hermione quietly felt around and realized that she and Skye were in a closet. She peeked through the open door and could see a bed. She heard strange grunting and moaning sounds and immediately wished that she hadn't looked through the door.

Pansy Parkinson was having sex with a man, and that man wasn't Draco. She couldn't see his face, but he definitely didn't have blonde hair. Hermione closed her eyes, not wanting to watch, but Skye nudged her leg. Resigned, Hermione continued to listen, though she kept her eyes focused on the ground.

"Oh, Roran!" Pansy cried out.

Hermione heard a thud and glanced to the left of the room. Draco had entered the room, carrying a bouquet of roses, which had just fallen to the floor. He gazed at the scene in front of him with a look of abject horror on his face.

"Draco!" Pansy gasped, trying to cover herself with the blankets.

The man nervously jumped off the bed and pulled on his pants. He looked around for his shirt, which Hermione noticed was on the ground perilously close to the closet. As the man bent down to retrieve his shirt, Hermione caught a glimpse of his face. It was the man who was after Skye!

Roran, Pansy's lover, disapparated. Hermione didn't hear the rest of the conversation between Draco and Pansy as Skye swept her away through time once more.

This time, they reappeared next to the mountain lake that Hermione had so loved taking Darkness to. Hermione sat down to think.

"That's how he knew about the unicorn foal," she muttered, thinking aloud. "Roran was playing Pansy…But how does Skye know to take me to these places? He's obviously never been to those places and times before!"

Skye nuzzled her leg and rolled on his side, offering his belly to be scratched.

"You just sense things, don't you?" she murmured, rubbing his soft belly. "You just sense when things are wrong and you do your best to fix them…"

Skye tossed his head and stretched out on the ground.

"Skye," said Hermione, a smile stretching her face as she came up with an idea, "can you take me to my house two hours before I was captured by Roran?"

Skye tilted his head to one side questioningly, but a few moments later, the two of them were gone.

Hermione reappeared in her own empty living room.

"Quickly," she muttered to herself. She ran outside to the pasture where Darkness was grazing calmly. Skye followed her, nickering happily as he saw his past self next to Darkness. The two unicorn foals pranced around each other, apparently showing no distress to seeing each other. This was much different than what Dumbledore had warned them about if a past and present human self were to meet. "Come on," she murmured to Darkness as she quickly led him from the pasture. "Skye!"

The Skye who had brought her to this time left the other unicorn foal and followed Hermione away from the pasture. Hermione tethered Darkness to a tree within sight of the pasture and then cast a Disillusionment charm on him.

Thinking quickly, she created an illusion of a horse standing in the pasture where Darkness had been. She added effects to the illusion that would cause Roran to believe he was actually stabbing a horse whenever he came to do his assault on poor Darkness. Though it pained her to do so, she also added an illusion that would prevent both her and Draco from realizing it was an illusion. This was necessary to keep the past intact.

"Sorry, Skye," she whispered, aiming her wand at the unicorn foal from the past. "Obliviate!"

The blue eyes of the unicorn from the past became slightly unfocused. Hermione then cast a spell to put him in a deep sleep so that the little foal wouldn't have to watch the illusion of Darkness get hurt.

The Skye who had brought her here looked up at her reproachfully. "Oh, come on, you know I had to do it," she said softly, returning to where Darkness was tethered. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have been so frightened when you came to see me and I wouldn't have known anything was wrong at home."

"Come on, Darkness," Hermione said, disillusioning herself and Skye as she mounted the gelding. Darkness galloped away towards the mountain, Skye following behind. When they reached the mountain, Hermione sat down by some shrubs. "Now we just have to wait until my present self goes into the past. When that happens, I'll bring Darkness back, try to explain things to Draco and Ron, and then go after Roran."

Skye flopped down on the ground, panting from the long run.

"Why does Roran want you so badly?" Hermione murmured, desperate to understand. "That's one of the things I'll find out when I make him pay…"

Darkness pushed his muzzle in her face and blew, tickling her cheeks. Hermione giggled and hugged him tightly, happy beyond belief to have him safe.

She sat at the base of the mountain a few miles away from her house with her two equine friends for several hours. She watched Roran come and injure Darkness. She watched sadly as Draco saw Darkness's body. When Ron arrived at the house, she frowned, not appreciating the fact that Draco had called him. She cast a Disillusionment charm on herself and began taking a roundabout way back to her house. When she made it there, she quietly skirted her sobbing past self and hid on the other side of the house, hoping that Darkness and Skye would be silent. She peeked through the window at one point, just before her past self yelled, "I'm not going!"

Several moments later, Hermione heard Draco's cry as Skye had transported her to the mountain. She waited a few minutes more, until she heard Ron said in shock, "Her wand is gone!" Then, she led Darkness over to the pasture and placed a multitude of wards around the entire pasture that would prevent anyone but her from getting in, no matter what their intentions. She was exhausted when she finished.

"Stay here," Hermione told Skye, as she walked inside the house.

Draco was furiously pacing the kitchen and Ron was slumped on the sofa as the two yelled at each other.

"—shouldn't have called you. Waste of my fucking time, obviously!"

"I can protect her much better than you ever could!"

While the two of them were distracted, Hermione summoned their wands to her.

"Guys," she said quietly, then louder as they didn't seem to hear her. "Guys!"

"Hermione!" they chorused, running to her. Ron reached Hermione first, throwing his arms around her. Hermione felt his familiar embrace and sighed, hugging him back. It had been so long since they had spent time together—though it was primarily Ron's fault, of course.

"Done forcing yourself upon her, Weasley?" snarled Draco, a jealous look on his face.

"Unlike _you,_ Malfoy, I don't have to force myself on people. You force yourself on society. Nobody wants you here," Ron growled in reply.

Hermione slipped away from Ron's grip. "I'm going after Roran," she informed the two of them. "Nothing you can say or do is going to stop me."

"Wait a moment, where were you?" asked Ron, suddenly looking confused. "And how do you know his name?"

Hermione sighed and quickly explained everything. Draco's face hardened when he heard Hermione's revelation of who Pansy had been cheating with, but relaxed into relief when he heard that Darkness was safe.

When she finished, the two men stared at her, completely bemused.

"You did all that by yourself?" Ron finally said.

Hermione scowled. "I'm not as helpless as you think, Ron."

"Not all of us need a posse behind us to get simple things done," Draco sneered.

"At least _my_ girlfriends don't cheat on me!" Ron lied in reply, smirking as he realized that he had hit a nerve.

Draco lunged at Ron, tackling him to the floor. Hermione dropped their wands on the ground and swiftly left the house, knowing that they would be too distracted to follow her. "Skye, you need to stay here," Hermione told the little foal.

Skye shook his head and stomped.

"Roran wants you for evil," she said quietly, soothingly petting Skye's slender neck. "I can't let you get hurt."

Skye lowered his head sadly and pawed the ground.

"I'll be back soon," she promised.

She turned in place and disapparated, reappearing outside her old house. Hermione walked cautiously towards the front door. To her surprise, it was unlocked. She shoved it open, revealing the empty entranceway.

Suddenly, Roran walked out of the kitchen."You came back," he said, sounding mildly surprised.

"Expelliarmus!" cried Hermione, catching his wand as it soared over to her.

Roran merely smirked, looking perfectly at ease.

Hermione quickly said, "Incarcerous!" Roran was bound hand and foot with strong ropes. He fell to the floor and began to laugh.

"What is wrong with you?" Hermione growled, feeling a tinge of unease. This was much too easy.

"When I bought this house, don't you think I would have placed some sort of protection on it?" asked Roran through his laughter. "The best part is that you sold it to me!"

"I didn't sell it to you personally," Hermione said, looking around the entranceway carefully. "I had everything sold by a realtor."

"Be that as it may," said Roran, looking mildly disappointed that the irony wasn't as great as he had originally thought, "Your house will now turn against you!"

Absolutely nothing happened.

"You're insane," Hermione said quietly. "Why do you want the unicorn?"

Roran sighed. "He has powers, you stupid witch."

"What do you want to use his powers for?"

Roran shrugged.

"Oh, Granger, you're so oblivious," said a lilting female voice that echoed through the house.

Hermione looked around quickly, but could see no source of the voice. "Who are you?" she asked commandingly. "Show yourself!"

"Expelliarmus!" cried the voice, from behind Hermione.

Hermione tried to keep hold of her wand, but the spell was too strong and her wand went flying to the hand of her attacker.

Pansy Parkinson stood behind Hermione, a triumphant look on her face. Her black hair was much longer than it had been in school, and it flowed down her back in long waves that nearly reached her bottom. Her large hazel eyes were accentuated with makeup, as were her eyelashes and full lips. She looked stunning in a flowing blue dress that emphasized her breasts and flat stomach.

"Where are you going, the Yule Ball?" Hermione asked sarcastically, although inwardly her heart sank as she realized that she could never measure up to Pansy in looks.

"Not all of us only look presentable once a year," Pansy sneered in reply.

Hermione lunged at her, her eyes on her wand. Pansy laughed. "Crucio!"

Hermione fell to the ground, screaming as crippling pain shot through every part of her body, igniting every last nerve ending. It felt like years before Pansy lifted the spell. "There, now. Why don't you stay there while I untie this moron. You all right, Roran?"

Once Roran was fully untied, he and Pansy approached Hermione, who was lying in an awkward position on the floor, her hand twisted under her back.

"Get up," ordered Pansy.

"Wait, where's my—" Before Roran could finish saying the word "wand," Hermione removed her hand from under her back, Roran's wand in her hand. "Stupefy!"

Pansy fell to the ground, stunned. Her wand fell into the vent on the floor and disappeared. Roran dropped to his knees beside her. "Sweetheart!"

Hermione let down her guard for a split second and Roran grabbed her by the ankle, pulling sharply. His aim was poor and it was only a slight grip on her foot, but it was the leg that she had broken earlier in the day, and it was quite tender. With a hiss of pain, she crashed to the floor, losing her hold on Roran's wand. The wand skidded across the floor.

Roran tackled Hermione, his entire body crushing her against the marble floor. "You bitch!" he yelled furiously. Hermione kicked upwards, connecting with his knee, but it did little to stop him. "I'm going to kill you for all the trouble you've caused me. Forget about the bloody unicorn—I don't need you to find him. The Fidelius Charm will break once you're dead!" Roran locked his hands around Hermione's neck and began to squeeze hard.

Hermione wrenched at his hands, trying to get them to loosen, but he was too strong. Her breath began to wheeze thinly from her throat. Moments passed and Hermione couldn't breathe. Black spots grew in her vision, but over Roran's shoulder, she saw her hero.

"You bastard!" yelled Draco Malfoy, sporting a cut on his lip that was probably from Ron. Skye stood next to him, trembling with a mix of excitement and fear.

Startled, Roran loosened his grip. Draco picked him up and threw him away from Hermione. Roran hit the wall and slid down, landing on the floor right next to his fallen wand. Shaking off the impact, he grabbed his wand and fired a curse at Draco, which luckily missed.

Skye trotted over to Hermione and nuzzled her gently. The girl rubbed her throat gingerly. "I'm okay," she murmured to the concerned foal.

Skye slid under her arm and helped Hermione to her feet. Hermione carefully walked over to the unconscious Pansy Parkinson and found her own wand.

Draco and Roran were dueling fiercely, jets of light shooting between them too fast to watch. Hermione looked for an opening to try and help Draco, but they were moving too quickly. In a sudden move, Draco twisted his wand in a complex series of movements that culminated in multiple beams of light lancing at Roran at the speed of light. Roran couldn't block all of them and the remaining beams cut through him like knives, eliciting a piercing scream from the man. Blood coursed from his wounds and he fell to the ground, his mouth opening and closing soundlessly.

Roran looked like he was trying to say something, but his body fell still before he could speak. The blood pooling around him had a purplish tinge that didn't look quite normal to Hermione. She turned to say something to Draco, but he wasn't next to her. Her eyes darkened as she saw him kneeling next to Pansy, feeling her forehead gently.

Skye whinnied and stomped the ground, his actions mirroring Hermione's anger.

Pansy stirred under Draco's touch. Her hazel eyes slowly opened. Her gaze flicked from Draco to Hermione to the body of Roran across the room.

"Oh, Draco!" she cried out, bursting into tears. She threw her arms around Draco's neck, sobbing into his shoulder. "You saved me!"

"Are you okay?" Draco asked her concernedly, helping her to her feet.

"That d-dreadful man was f-forcing me to sleep with him and help him, Draco," said Pansy tearfully, pressing her body close as she clung to him.

Hermione's eyes flashed with rage. "She's lying!" she growled, striding next to Draco.

"What's that sound?" Pansy asked, hearing Skye's hooves click on the wood floor. "Like…hooves?"

"Oh, that's just Skye," said Draco unthinkingly.

Pansy's eyes widened as Skye became visible—Draco had accidentally brought her into the Fidelius Charm. Draco missed the glint of triumph that shone in Pansy's eyes for a brief moment.

"What are you doing?" hissed Hermione, her hand on Skye's back for protection. "Pansy and Roran were working together! You know that he's the one she was cheating on you with. They've been together since then!"

"No!" cried Pansy, swooning almost theatrically in Draco's arms. "He forced me to sleep with him and tell him things about you so that he could get that adorable unicorn!"

Skye stomped in agitation as Pansy's eyes turned to him. Pansy leaned down to pet him, a greedy leer on her face.

"Get off of him," snapped Hermione, shoving Pansy away from the unicorn. Pansy reeled and nearly fell, but Draco steadied her.

"What's the matter with you?" Draco asked, looking at Hermione, exceptionally confused. "I know she was a Slytherin, but surely—"

"She used the Cruciatus Curse on me!" said Hermione furiously, wondering if he would really side with Pansy over her.

"I didn't!" gasped Pansy, leaning into Draco, her arms wrapping around his supporting arm.

"Check her wand!" snapped Hermione, her face red.

"Where's your wand?" Draco said coolly to Pansy.

"I—I lost it when Roran stunned me," Pansy said tearfully.

"He didn't stun you, I did," sneered Hermione. "With Roran's wand."

"Why are you doing this to me, Hermione?" Pansy asked softly. "I was a prisoner of him as surely as you were."

Draco looked between the two women, torn. Pansy, who had been the love of his life for two years, was tearful and beautiful, standing with her arms folded across her chest. Her scent was just as he had remembered it. Had she really not wanted to cheat on him? His wounded heart forced him to remember the sounds of ecstasy that she had made before he had discovered her and Roran, as well as her hurtful words afterwards.

Hermione, in stark contrast, was fiery mad and adorable. Hers was a natural beauty. Her brown hair tumbled down her back in a multitude of curls. Her slightly shorter body was slender and poised to attack. Her expression of fury, mixed with an unwilling jealousy over Pansy's proximity to him, was so real and palpable that Draco was tempted to believe her. She, at least, had never lied to him.

Draco took a deep breath.

He stepped away from Pansy. He stood next to Hermione and slid his arm around her waist. Hermione let out an almost imperceptible sigh. "I fell for you once, you manipulative witch, but it won't happen again," Draco said quietly and clearly. "Get out of here before I do to you what I did to him."

Pansy's teary expression vanished, to be replaced with a hard sneer. "You'll regret insulting me, Draco. This isn't the end of this." She stormed out the front door.

"How could you let her leave?" Hermione growled after she had gone. "She's not going to stop trying to get Skye. And now that you've let her into the Fidelius Charm, he's vulnerable!"

Draco closed his eyes and sighed. "She's just a silly girl, Hermione. She can't do anything. Can we get out of here now? Why was Roran in your old house, anyway?"

"He's insane," said Hermione flatly. "He must have bought it for a sense of irony."

"Ah," said Draco, his grey eyes tired. "Well, I saved you, now let's leave."

"After you," said Hermione, feeling slightly snubbed as Draco walked out of the house immediately. She glanced around the room cautiously one last time and again noticed the strange color of Roran's blood. Just in case it could be useful, she conjured a glass vial and siphoned some of the blood into it, tucking it in her pocket for later analysis. With a soft tongue-click to get Skye's attention, she followed Draco into the evening.

Draco and Hermione wordlessly apparated back to her house.

"Well," said Draco awkwardly as the two of them stood in Hermione's living room. Skye curled up on the rug by the fireplace, apparently deciding that he wanted to sleep inside rather than in his pasture.

"Where's Ron?" Hermione questioned, looking around. The suitcase that Ron had packed was in the corner of the room, but the redhead was nowhere to be seen. She walked down the hallway into her room, quickly slipping the vial of Roran's blood into one of her dresser drawers.

"The last time I saw him, he was on his way to go get his broken nose healed," replied Draco, smirking triumphantly as he followed Hermione into her bedroom.

"You know, it really bothers me that you guys enjoy fighting so much," said Hermione wryly, poking Draco gently in the shoulder. "You're both my friends."

"So I'm your _friend_, am I?" murmured Draco, his smirk changing to another look that Hermione had seen him give her before. "That's all?" He pulled Hermione against his body and held her close in a sensual way that made her shiver. "I rather thought we were more than that." To punctuate his words, Draco touched his lips to hers in a deep kiss that was definitely not a kiss that one friend would give to another. He ended the kiss much too soon.

Hermione whimpered softly.

"What's wrong?" he whispered into her ear teasingly. He kissed her just below the ear and, hearing her shuddering gasp, continued kissing his way down her neck.

Hermione's knees went weak, but Draco caught her in his arms and placed her on the bed. Hermione pulled him down on top of her and kissed him forcefully. It was Draco's turn to groan this time when Hermione pulled on his shirt, untucking it from his pants, and slid her hands under it, feeling his taut abdominal muscles. Draco broke the kiss just for a second to take off his button-down shirt and suit coat, letting the expensive material fall to the ground without a care. When he returned his attention to Hermione, he felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach when he saw that she had removed her shirt for him.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, her vulnerability showing in her eyes. She thought that his hesitation was because he didn't like what he was seeing.

"You're beautiful," he exhaled, staring at the rounded breasts that nestled perfectly into her pink bra. Draco slowly leaned down and kissed Hermione gently on the lips, feeling her face flush with his compliment. The gentle kiss quickly turned rough and passionate as the two explored each other's upper bodies with hands and tongues.

Long minutes later, Draco moved his hand to the button on Hermione's jeans. Hermione stiffened, her breathing quickening.

"You okay?" Draco asked quietly, his blond hair falling into his stormy grey eyes.

"Can we—can we not go any farther tonight?" Hermione asked softly, looking away from him in embarrassment.

"That's perfectly fine with me," Draco assured her, taking her into his arms and kissing her soft lips gently.

The two of them snuggled close on Hermione's bed, falling silent. Hermione felt herself drifting off into sleep, nestled in the comforting arms of Draco Malfoy.

Draco glanced down at the girl he was spooning with. Her eyes had fluttered closed and her breathing was slow and even. She had fallen asleep. Draco debated whether or not to leave, but he didn't really want to wake her. Besides…he'd had a very long day, and was very sleepy himself. He told himself that he should leave, but before he could make himself get up, he too fell into a deep sleep.


	7. Chapter 7

The first thing that Hermione noticed the next morning was how warm she felt—like something warm was pressed against her back. She groggily glanced down and saw a large male hand on her stomach. She was pressed up against the warm male body who was sharing her bed. Her heart sank and a sob escaped her before she could help it. She had clearly been dreaming the past few months. She was still with Rhys.

"Mmm…what's wrong?" asked the sleep-heavy voice of the man behind her.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly, turning around and flinching. Instead of Rhys's angry face, Draco Malfoy's sleepy eyes met her own. "It wasn't a dream." Hermione exhaled, relaxing.

"You don't ever have to flinch from me," Draco murmured, pulling her close to him and closing his eyes again as he fell back asleep.

Hermione, however, was awake—once she was awake, she could never fall back asleep. She eased out of his arms and slipped out of bed. She made her way to the bathroom and turned on the hot water in the shower. Shutting the door behind her, she undressed and got into the shower. She relaxed and basked in the steaming hot water as it streamed down her body. She massaged shampoo into her scalp and rinsed it out, wincing as she got soap in her eyes. She finished her shower and stepped out, wrapping a towel around her soaked body.

Hermione glanced in her room quickly, seeing that Draco was still asleep. She quietly walked in her room and over to her dresser, where she pulled out clothes to wear that day. As she opened her sock drawer, she saw the tiny vial of Roran's blood lying inside. Hesitating only a moment, she grabbed it and left her room, shutting the door quietly after her.

Hermione dressed in her living room and put Skye out in the pasture, telling him sternly not to leave. She came back inside and dried her hair, putting it into a ponytail.

She carefully perused her bookshelves, looking for an appropriate book that could tell her what was wrong with Roran's blood. Even now, the blood was a strange purplish color that was all wrong for blood. After opening and closing several books, she realized that there was a quite simple spell that she could use—one that she had learned in third year. Aiming her wand at the blood, she said firmly, "Enchanto Revelio!"

A pink shadowy heart slowly rose into the air above the blood, revolving slowly in midair for a few moments until it faded away. "A love potion?" Hermione said incredulously, setting the vial on the counter. "But why would…Oh Merlin!"

She ran for her bedroom, nearly tripping over a chair in her haste to tell Draco what she had discovered about Roran. "NO!" she screamed as she looked at the bed, where Draco had been sleeping just minutes before. The covers were messed up, as if there had been some sort of brief scuffle in the bed. Draco's wand lay on the floor, partially under the bed.

Hermione ran to her phone and dialed a number that she knew by heart. She heard the phone ring several times before the answering machine picked up. "Hi, you've reached Harry and Ginny. Please leave a—"

Hermione slammed down the receiver, shaking with adrenaline. She knew exactly who had taken Draco. Pansy Parkinson had not been being used by Roran—it had been the other way around. Pansy had been keeping control of Roran using a love potion, presumably so that he would do whatever she wanted. It was clear that Roran had been under the influence of the love potion for a very long time, for his mind had shown the early signs of the insanity associated with taking a love potion for extended periods of time. All his rantings about how the house was going to attack proved this. Roran had been Pansy's minion, sent to bring back the unicorn so that Pansy wouldn't be implicated if things had gone wrong. Now that Roran was dead, Pansy had had no choice but to do things for herself.

Hermione had no idea why Pansy had taken Draco, but she intended to find out. "I can't bring Skye," she murmured to herself. That would be playing right into Pansy's hands. But how would she find Draco otherwise? She could use the Point Me spell, but that would only give her a direction, not a distance. Still, it was all she had to go on.

Hermione walked outside to the pasture, where Darkness and Skye were basking in the shining sun. She led Darkness out of the pasture and shut the gate behind her, leaving Skye alone in the enclosure. Skye reared in distress, letting out a snort.

"Skye, baby, I'm sorry," Hermione said shakily. She was fighting hard to keep fear for Draco from overwhelming her. "You have to stay here."

Skye looked down at the ground dejectedly.

"I'll be back soon—I promise."

Hermione swung herself onto Darkness's broad back and set him off at a trot towards the north, where her wand told her that Draco was. Since Draco could be one mile away or one thousand miles away, Hermione kept Darkness at an easy trot, not wanting him to get too tired out. After three hours of riding, she stopped and gave the faithful gelding water. They were mostly traversing empty countryside, which lulled Hermione into a doze more than once.

Two hours more passed uneventfully—the countryside gradually changed to rough, rocky terrain with scattered forests—until Hermione's wand suddenly ceased pointing north and swiveled to point west. Hermione halted Darkness and looked to her left at the large, crumbling castle that she was in the process of passing by. She rode slowly towards the front doors.

Without warning, Darkness reared on his hind legs. Hermione let out a startled cry and held on with all her strength. Still, she was caught off guard, and without the added support that a saddle would have provided, she slid off Darkness's back, landing hard on the eroding rock path. Her head cracked against the ground painfully and Hermione saw stars dancing in front of her eyes as she struggled to stay conscious.

Darkness nudged her anxiously with his nose, his eyes wide with fright. Hermione clung to his mane and heaved her sore body back onto the horse's back. As Darkness backed up skittishly, Hermione saw why he had reared. In the middle of the twisted walkway leading up to the old castle, there was a nearly invisible barrier blocking the way. From the tiny ripples it made, Hermione could tell that it was electrified. If Darkness hadn't done what he had done, they both would have been dead.

"Good boy," Hermione murmured, pulling Darkness backwards. They backed up farther until they were a few hundred feet away from the castle, inside the nearby forest. She dismounted and wrapped Darkness's reins around a tree branch, making sure that it was loose enough so that he could pull himself free if he needed to. Taking a deep breath, she began walking towards the mansion, holding her wand firmly in her right hand.

When she reached the all but undetectable barrier, she tried several spells to make it dissipate quietly without alerting Pansy of her presence. None of them had any effect on the electrified magical barrier, however. Getting frustrated, she cried, "Confringo!" A jagged hole blasted through the barrier, causing the entire length of it to sizzle and disappear.

Hermione stepped past where the barrier had been and walked quickly and warily towards the house. Unless Pansy was deaf or otherwise occupied, she had to have heard the loud sizzling bang that rent the air as the barrier was breached. The crumbling castle door unlocked easily under Hermione's charm and she opened it quietly. The old castle was in poor condition. Cracks in the ceiling were everywhere, allowing light to pass through and illuminate the otherwise dark building. Hermione made her way cautiously downwards, following the direction of her wand. She was paying so much attention to her wand, however, that she didn't notice the shadow following her in the dark corridors.

A canvas bag was suddenly thrust over her head and Hermione felt herself being dragged off to the side, into one of the rooms along the corridor. She tried to scream but someone had put a silencing charm on her. Moments passed—she heard whispering of at least three male voices. The bag was suddenly removed from her head, and she squinted in the dim light to see who her abductors were.

"Harry?" she asked confusedly, seeing the familiar face of her friend.

"Hermione?" replied Harry Potter, gaping. "What are you doing here?"

The other two people in the room were Ron Weasley and Neville Longbottom.

"I—I'm going after Draco…why are you here?" She smoothed her hair back into its ponytail and stood up.

"Draco's not here," whispered Ron, looking around suspiciously.

"What are you talking about?" Hermione hissed. "Of course he's not in this room, but he's somewhere in this castle!"

"No, he's not," said Harry firmly. "He's at St. Mungo's hospital. He's badly wounded. You should go see him."

"Why is Neville here?" Hermione asked, backing away from Ron and Harry.

"Harry's right," said Neville, his round face looking just as it had in their old days at Hogwarts. "You should go see Draco."

"Go see Draco," repeated Ron.

"Wait," gasped Hermione. "You've never called him Draco in your lives, none of you! Stupefy!" The red jet of light connected squarely with Ron's chest. Ron's figure blew apart in a blast of light—as did Harry's and Neville's.

"It was an illusion," Hermione realized, panting. "How could Pansy be so powerful?"

She left the room and quickened her pace down the staircase that led to the dungeons, which was where her wand was pointing. Halfway down the stairs, her foot slipped through an invisible hole in the staircase. Her entire leg slid into the hole, stopping mid-thigh. Hermione held back a shriek of pain as fiery pain wound its way up her leg. "Damn it," she hissed. It took her a full five minutes to pull her leg out of the hole and stand upright on the stairs once more. Her leg ached terribly, but she limped the rest of the way down the stairs.

At the bottom, her wand suddenly began turning to point in all directions, refusing to stop at any certain place, leaving Hermione with no clue as to which way to go. There were two corridors she could choose. One was dark and had a smoky haze about it, while the other was slightly brighter and had a peculiar scent of flowers.

She chose the brighter corridor, realizing that the flowery aroma could be Pansy's perfume. Ignoring the pain in her leg, Hermione limped down the corridor, listening hard for any sign of Draco.

"Make me, witch," snarled a voice suddenly from further down the hallway.

"Why force when I can…persuade?" replied a seductive female voice.

The hallway culminated in a heavy wooden door that refused to unlock under Hermione's spell. Realizing that it might be a good idea to make sure that Draco was in there before breaking down the door, she whispered a spell to see through the door.

Inside the room, the ceilings of which were made of grey, impenetrable stone, Draco stood against a wall. His arms were chained together over his head, and his legs were chained a few feet apart against the wall. He wasn't wearing a shirt, and the pants he was currently wearing were black leather and quite tight. They looked amazing on him, but Hermione was too furious to notice. Pansy Parkinson was standing in front of him, wearing sexy pink lingerie. Pansy ran her hands down Draco's chest, which sported a long gash stretching from just above his heart to his opposite hipbone.

Hermione frantically began whispering every spell and curse that she could think of to get the door open. Even the blasting curse that she had used on the invisible barrier outside failed to work.

Draco growled in pain as her fingers ran over the bleeding gash.

"I'm _so_ sorry I had to do that to you, baby," Pansy said, pouting theatrically. "But really, I feared you would kill me before I got you in chains!"

"Get off of me before I kill you with my bare hands," hissed Draco, lunging against the chains. More blood trickled from his wound.

"Draco, Draco, Draco," said Pansy, raising her wand threateningly. "If you threaten me again, I'll be forced to punish you. You don't want that, do you?"

"What do you want?" Draco snarled in reply.

"First, I'm craving your touch, Draco," murmured Pansy, touching her breasts sensually with her wand. "No man can satisfy me like you once did. Then, you're going to get me that unicorn."

"Why do you want him so badly?" Draco said, watching warily as Pansy walked to the opposite of the room, where a cauldron was bubbling with a pink liquid.

"Because I am going to bring back Lord Voldemort," she replied triumphantly, scooping a cupful of the potion out of the cauldron. "And now, a little love potion to get you...in the mood."

Hermione redoubled her efforts at unlocking the door, murmuring spells as fast as she could. She froze, watching with helpless horror as Pansy approached Draco with the full cup.

Pansy pressed the cup against Draco's lips. "Imperio!" she said softly.

Draco's face contorted with effort as he struggled to fight the curse, but in the end, his eyes went blank and his mouth opened obediently.

"Expulso!" screamed Hermione, shielding her eyes as the door exploded with the force of her spell. The explosion knocked her backwards against the wall, hitting the already sore spot on her head with force. Fighting the urge to vomit from the intense pain, she aimed her wand at her head and gritted out, "Episkey!" The worst of the pain in her head vanished and she got to her feet, stumbling into the smoky room. "Evanesco!" she whispered, vanishing the smoke.

"Crucio!" shrieked Pansy, getting up from the ground and brushing off her scantily-clad body.

Hermione dodged the curse and yelled "Stupefy!"

Pansy fell still on the ground, stunned.

Hermione ran to Draco, who was blinking away the blood dripping from a cut on his forehead where a fragment of stone had hit him. She quickly unwound the chains from around his wrists and gave him his wand, which she had brought with him. As she bent down to unchain his ankles, she suddenly felt a terrific blow to her body which sent her flying backwards. She hit the opposite wall hard and slid down to the ground, blacking out for a moment.

She quickly regained consciousness and saw Draco unchaining his ankles, a blank expression on his face. Pansy was still unconscious, lying in a puddle of pink potion.

"Draco?" she said questioningly, her voice weak. Most of the love potion was on the floor, but how much had Draco swallowed? She tried to get to her feet, but her legs felt like jelly and gave away beneath her.

"You've hurt her," Draco said ominously, walking over to her with his wand raised.

Hermione threw up a complex shield spell to block his first curse. Draco knew many Dark curses, and Hermione knew that she wouldn't be able to block them using the normal shield spell. This shield spell used her energy, magic, and life as a source for its power, and would block any spell or curse aimed in a 360 degree bubble around Hermione as long as her energy held up.

Draco's next curse was much more powerful—a sparkling black jet of light that crashed against Hermione's shield and jarred her whole body.

"Draco, stop!" she cried, gasping as the shield took an enormous chunk of her energy in repayment for blocking that curse.

Draco cast two more curses in rapid succession, leaving Hermione dizzy and even weaker. She didn't have enough energy to hold the shield much longer. As another of his curses skidded off the shield, Hermione struggled to hold to shield and remain conscious. She released the shield and held up her wand in front of her defensively. Draco approached her and grabbed her by the neck, lifting her into the air. Hermione's fingers scrabbled at his hands, trying to loosen his grip as he held her off the ground by her neck. "Draco," she wheezed, frightened tears escaping her eyes as she realized that Draco was going to kill her.

Draco aimed his wand at her face and said monotonously, "Avada Ked—NO!" With frightening speed, his expression changed from blank to horrified. He released Hermione immediately and she fell to her knees on the floor, gasping and crying. She clutched her neck as she drew shuddering breaths.

"Hermione, oh Merlin, I'm so sorry!" Draco breathed, collapsing beside her. He put his arms around her, looking anguished.

"I know," she whispered, clinging to him. "It's okay."

"I need to finish this," Draco spat, rising from the floor and storming over to the unconscious woman. He kicked her wand away and intoned, "Ennervate."

Pansy stirred, moaning. Her eyes opened slowly. "It worked," she said, smirking.

"Really?" sneered Draco, lifting her up with his wand and throwing her across the room.

Pansy crashed to the ground, letting out a cry of pain.

Draco raised his wand to do more, but he halted suddenly, staring hard at her. Pansy's hair was slowly turning from straight and black to long, blonde curls. "What the hell?" he growled.

Pansy looked down at her body, grinning as it changed to a tanned, curvy figure. When she looked back up at Draco, her face shape had changed also. "Hey, babe," she said, flipping her hair back.

"Kassia?" Draco asked, absolutely shell-shocked.

Hermione looked from Draco to the other girl and back to Draco again. "What the hell is going on?" she demanded to know.

"Pansy's a good friend of mine," Kassia said softly. "She introduced me to you, remember? But that didn't stop you from screwing me not two weeks after you dumped her. Oh, but don't worry—Pansy didn't mind."

Hermione flushed at hearing this, wondering how many girls Draco had slept with.

Draco kept his wand aimed at Kassia. "Where's Pansy?" he growled.

"I can't see any harm in telling you now," Kassia remarked, "although I _am_ disappointed that we didn't get to do anything delicious before your ugly bitch of a girlfriend came along."

Hermione normally would have said something, but her head was reeling most unpleasantly from the injuries and exhaustion she was suffering at the moment.

"Pansy will no doubt have the unicorn by now, and I distracted you quite well, don't you think?" laughed Kassia, leaning back against the wall. "Thank Merlin I don't have to drink that vile Polyjuice Potion anymore."

"Give me one reason why I shouldn't kill you right here," Draco seethed.

"Oh, well, that's easy," giggled Kassia, scooping up her wand with one hand and the empty potion cup in the other. "Because this is a Portkey." Kassia's laughs echoed throughout the room as she disappeared.

Draco and Hermione stared dumbly at the space where Kassia had vanished for a few moments before Draco cursed in fury and blasted a hole through the wall.

"We need to find Skye," Hermione said, sitting on the ground where she had fallen after Draco had dropped her.

Draco was shocked by how weak her voice sounded. "Are you okay?" he asked, walking over and kneeling beside her.

"I'm fine," said Hermione flatly. "You're the one with blood dripping down your chest."

"Oh, it's nothing," he said, touching the gash gingerly. "It's only barely bleeding anymore. I do need a shirt, though. And perhaps another pair of pants." He looked down in distaste at the tight leather pants he was wearing.

"I don't know," sighed Hermione, a weary smile on her face. "I think they look pretty good on you."

"Ha ha," Draco said sarcastically, pulling Hermione to her feet.

Hermione winced and lost her balance, holding tightly to Draco's arm.

"Can you walk?" he asked concernedly.

"No," she moaned, grabbing the leg that pained her.

"Come on." Draco swung Hermione up into his arm, letting out a small hiss of pain as her body connected with his wound. "The building is anti-apparition, so we'll have to walk out of here."

"I have a better idea," murmured Hermione, trying to keep her eyes open as a surge of exhaustion swept over her. She aimed her wand at the wall and cast the blasting spell. The force of her spell blasted a hole through the four walls that stood between them and the outside. Then she fell limp in Draco's arms, panting.

"You need to save your energy," Draco said, carrying her in his arms outside.

"Someone has to take Darkness back to my house," Hermione reminded him. She told him the story of how she had found him as the two of them made their way towards the forest.

They soon reached Darkness, who neighed happily to see them. "All right. You need to ride Darkness back to your house, since we can't apparate with him. I'll go after Pansy and Skye," he decided, lifting Hermione up onto Darkness's back.

"You can't go by yourself," protested Hermione, clinging to Darkness with the remains of her strength. "I'm coming with you. I just need to rest for a little while."

"We don't have a little while!" snapped Draco, regretting his tone when he saw the look on Hermione's face. "I'm sorry, but I need to find them right now." Without another word, Draco disapparated.

"He'll never find them," Hermione whispered, knowing that they had to work together to find Skye. She aimed her wand at her sapphire necklace that she still wore every day. "Portus!" She unclasped it from her neck as it glowed silver. She pressed the necklace against Darkness's neck and closed her eyes.

The Portkey jerked Hermione and Darkness through space, setting them down with a jarring thud outside of Hermione's house.

Darkness whinnied and reared in fear over the terrifying experience, Hermione hanging on for dear life. Darkness settled down after a few moments, and Hermione slid off his back exhaustedly. She led him into the pasture, noticing with a sinking heart that Skye was no longer there.

Hermione entered her house and quickly opened up a particular cupboard that she rarely used. Neatly ordered potions in labeled vials lined the shelves. She grabbed an Invigoration Draught and downed it in one gulp, sighing as energy rushed through her entire body. After a moment of hesitation, she swallowed a poison-green potion that tasted absolutely vile. It was worth it, however, as the pain in her head and leg disappeared. The very next thing that she did was pick up the phone to call Harry.

"Hello?" murmured Harry, sounding like he'd just woken up.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, sighing as she made herself say the words, "I need your help."

Just minutes later, Harry and Ron apparated onto her doorstep. Harry looked exhausted and he blinked sleepily.

"It's only 6 o'clock," Hermione said questioningly. "Why were you sleeping?"

"Things have been really hectic at the Ministry," Harry yawned, walking past her into her house. He slumped down on the sofa. Ron and Hermione followed him inside. "There's been a lot of suspicious activity with some former Death Eaters. They've been stealing odd things lately—expensive ingredients from potion shops and the like. The Minister's putting a lot of pressure on us to figure out why, since this we've never seen anything like it."

Hermione quickly told Harry and Ron what Kassia had revealed about Pansy's motivation for stealing Skye. "Maybe this has something to do with what they want with Skye. What kind of ingredients did they steal?"

Ron named about fifteen ingredients. As Hermione heard them, her face darkened. "Those sound like some of the ingredients in a Compulsion spell." Harry and Ron stared at her with blank looks. She sighed. "Compulsion spells work similar to the Imperius Curse!"

"But why wouldn't they just cast Imperio on someone?" Ron asked skeptically.

Hermione inhaled sharply in realization. "Because Imperio only works on humans," she revealed grimly. "They need a spell to work on unicorns. They're going to force him to do what they want."

"Oh, Merlin," whispered Ron, his mouth open with horror. "They can bring Voldemort back!"

"And any other foul thing they can think of," finished Hermione.

Harry stood up quickly, all traces of exhaustion gone from his face. His eyes alive and bright, he spoke commandingly. "We need to find him."

"But how?" asked Ron.

"Draco went off after him," Hermione said unwillingly, trying to keep the worry out of her voice.

"But he has no idea where they would be, right?" inquired Harry.

To his credit, there was no scorn in his tone. And, Hermione reflected, she wouldn't have blamed him if there was. Draco's sudden departure had seemed to her both rash and dangerous. Realizing that Harry had asked her a question, she snapped back to the present. "No," she replied shortly.

Ron slung an arm over Hermione's shoulder. "We'll figure this out," he said comfortingly.

Harry opened his mouth excitedly, looking as if an idea had come to his mind, but before he could say a word, there was a loud CRACK!

Hermione screamed in shock as a blood-covered figure landed on the floor of the room. Ron leapt to his feet, a curse on his lips, but Hermione jerked his wand arm down just in time and the curse missed the bleeding man.

"It's Draco!" she screamed, hurling herself to the floor beside him. "Draco, what happened?"

Draco lay on his side, blood dripping slowly from his body onto the carpet. His breathing was shallow and his eyes stared blindly up at the ceiling.

Harry and Ron kneeled beside her on the floor. Ron made a movement as if to pull her away from the wounded man, but he thought better of it.

"Where are you hurt?" Harry asked authoritatively, making no move to touch Draco.

Hermione aimed her wand at Draco and said, her voice faint with fear, "Tergeo!" The blood on Draco's body disappeared, but more began to immediately seep through his shirt.

A sound came from Draco's mouth, but it was too quiet for them to understand.

"What?" Hermione asked frantically, bending down to listen to his ear.

"Chest," breathed Draco, his breathing slowing even further.

"Evanesco," the worried girl whispered. Draco's shirt disappeared, revealing taut abdominal muscles working hard as he struggled to breathe. A jagged, gaping hole in the center of his chest was the source of the bleeding. It looked as if a cantaloupe-sixed chunk of flesh had been carved from his very skin.

"Did he get Splinched?" Ron asked, fighting back a gag reflex.

"No, look at it," Hermione cried, tears leaking from her eyes.

The edges of the wound were tinted ugly shades of purple and green. They had an obvious cast of magic to them. Tendrils of magic writhed and twisted around the edges, framing the horrible lesion. Blood ran swiftly down Draco's chest.

"Who did this?" Harry asked. He was clearly struggling to maintain his composure.

"Draco, stay with me," Hermione said shakily, holding his hand tightly. "We need to get him to St. Mungo's, Harry!"

Draco's eyes opened slowly and he tried to speak. "F-forsss Savernake—Skye."

"Fors…fors what?" asked Ron eagerly, leaning closer to Draco.

Harry spoke quickly and quietly to his stag Patronus, which vanished with a nod.

"Savernake Forest?" Hermione guessed, stroking Draco's cheek with shaking fingers. "Is that where Skye is?"

"Y-Ye—" Draco's eyes rolled back in his head. His chest heaved three times as his body tried to get air, but then he ceased all movement.

"Draco!" gasped Hermione, running to her potion cabinet. She hastily selected three potions and rushed back to him.

With shaking hands, she unstoppered the first vial and trickled the deep blue potion into the wound on Draco's chest. Smoke and steam seeped into the air from the wound, which closed up slowly. Hermione barely had a chance to sigh with relief before the wound opened up again with a sucking sound.

"No!" she sobbed. She fumbled with the second vial, trying to get it open.

Four sudden loud cracks startled her, making her drop the vial. Four mediwizards rushed to Draco's side. It took them just seconds to realize that he needed to be taken straight to St. Mungo's. With a quick word to Harry, they disappeared with a whooshing sound. Draco vanished with them.

The room fell into a stunned silence. Ron pulled Hermione into his arms as she dissolved into tears.

"St. Mungo's," she sobbed, clinging to Ron.

Harry, his face grim and white, threw a handful of Floo powder into Hermione's fireplace. He helped Ron support the hysterical Hermione into the fireplace.

Hermione came back to her senses during the rushing trip to St. Mungo's, realizing that she could do nothing to help Draco unless she was at her best mentally. She used the traveling time to calm herself down, taking deep breaths. When the spinning sensation ceased, she found herself in the crowded waiting room of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

Shoving her way past a fire-breathing teenager and a man with dolphin fins, Hermione made her way to the Welcome Witch.

"Yeah?" asked the witch, chewing a copious amount of bright blue bubble gum. She was a teenager, looking barely out of Hogwarts, with bright red hair and a lot of lipstick. Her nametag read "Melanie."

"Draco Malfoy—where is he?" Hermione asked, her face hard as stone. She buried her emotions deep inside of her, saving her fear and grief for later, after she figured everything out with Draco and Skye.

"Don't seem to have a record here," said the Welcome Witch, barely looking up from her magazine, which bore an enormous, grinning picture of the Weasley twins.

"You need to _find_ a record, then!" Hermione gritted out, reaching out and slapping the magazine out of her hands. She smoothed her hair back with shaking hands.

"God, fine!" snarled Melanie, yanking a stack of parchment from the desk in front of her. The parchment kept adding and deleting names and information from the top page. Melanie scanned the first page briefly and said grudgingly, "Fourth floor—Spell Damage, Room 402."

Hermione took off for the elevator, ignoring the shouts of Harry and Ron as they exited the fireplaces of St. Mungo's and saw her walking away. She punched the button for the fourth floor and watched the elevator slide shut just feet away from Harry and Ron.

"Ma'am, you can't go in there," said a lime-robed Healer who stood outside the door of room 402.

"That's my—friend—in there," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. The solid wood door had no window on it—no clue as to Draco's condition.

"I'm Healer McCallan. The Healers are doing the very best they can," the Healer reassured her, his voice softening. "I'll let you know when there's any change in his status."

Hermione leaned weakly against the wall behind her for support. Her composure threatened to shatter.

"Hermione!" called Ron, jogging down the hallway towards her. Harry was close behind him.

"They won't let me in there," explained Hermione, rubbing her eyes fiercely to hold back the tears. Crying wouldn't help her now.

Harry spoke quietly to the man. The Healer's eyes flicked to Harry's scar while he spoke.

Finally, with an air of exasperation, the Healer said, "Fine, she can go in, but only her. And she needs to be disinfected first."

"Thank you," whispered Hermione, closing her eyes as the Healer whispered a spell that settled all along her body like a mist. The disinfecting spell cleansed all germs from her body and when the Healer was satisfied that she was clean, he opened the door to allow her to enter.

Three Healers were inside the room next to the hospital bed that Draco lay in. They were constantly using spells and potions of all types and colors.

Hermione watched for several minutes, her heart beating frantically.

"Ma'am, perhaps you should wait in the waiting room," said Healer McCallan quietly. "We can let you know if there is any change in his condition."

"Actually, I need to leave," Hermiome murmured softly. "If there's any change, can you tell Harry Potter and Ron Weasley? They'll know how to find me."

"Well, certainly," said McCallan, looking surprised. "But—"

"Then I'll be off," Hermione interrupted, knowing that if he said more, she would not be able to make herself leave. "Thank you for your assistance." She disapparated quickly, leaving a very befuddled Healer behind her.


	8. Chapter 8

Savernake Forest was dark and heavily wooded. Hermione stood very still, listening intently for any sounds or signs that her little unicorn foal was near. The area of the forest that she had randomly disapparated to was silent but for the normal sounds of wildlife.

Taking care not to make any noise, Hermione began walking softly toward the middle of the forest, using only the moonlight as her guide. As she picked her way carefully towards the depths of Savernake Forest, thoughts of Draco Malfoy occupied her mind. Anxious worry made her pulse race and her breaths shallow. Would he live? Would she find Skye? Even if Draco did recover, would she be able to even enjoy being with him, seeing as Pansy was working her evil with Skye?

A sizzling sound to Hermione's left drew her attention. She ducked behind a tree and took a deep breath, pulling her wand out. She glanced around the tree slowly, seeing the light of a fire in the distance. As quietly as she could, Hermione crept closer to the clearing where the fire was burning brightly. Crouching low behind a particularly thick bunch of thorns, she peered into the clearing.

Two robed figures stood casually next to a bubbling cauldron, talking casually. A steel cage glistening with the telltale spark of enchantment was placed near the cauldron. Through the bars, a small golden unicorn foal beat his hooves against the bars, letting out soft sounds of distress.

"I can't believe you ended it so soon," Kassia said disappointedly, giving the cauldron a slow stir. "He really is quite the delectable young man."

"True," admitted Pansy, nodding, "but our work is too important to allow anyone to get in the way, no matter how attractive. Once this potion is complete, it will be a simple matter of ordering the unicorn to take us back in time before the Dark Lord was defeated. We'll bring him back to the present—with the Dark Lord and the unicorn at our side, we will triumph!"

"Keep your voice down." Kassia looked around suspiciously. "You never know who could be near."

"Oh, please, Kassia—we're in the middle of Savernake Forest in the middle of the night! Who could be near?"

Hermione began edging around the thicket of thorns, her wand in hand as she prepared to attack. Just as she was about to reveal herself to the two women, a hand thrust over her mouth and she felt herself being forcefully dragged backwards.

Instinct made her try to scream against the restraining force of the person behind her, but no sound was able to escape. She was being pulled backwards through the forest, her feet not touching the ground due to the larger man's strength.

"Be silent, Miss Granger, or everything will be lost," hissed a familiar, cultured voice. "I have not come this far only to fail my son like I failed my wife."

Lucius Malfoy? Hermione thought frantically, relaxing only slightly.

The hands restraining her loosened, and Hermione found herself facing Lucius Malfoy, several hundred yards away from where she had been.

"How did you know—"

"My son is dying, Miss Granger," Lucius interrupted her, his eyes wild. He looked nothing as he had before. His grey eyes, so like his son's, were haunted and seemed to shimmer in the night on his gaunt face. "These vile women are responsible, and I will do my utmost to make certain that they pay for it."

"You should be with him," Hermione whispered, her heart clenching as she realized that her last chance to see Draco alive could be slipping away.

"As should you," hissed Lucius. "As I understand it, he cares greatly for you."

"They have your unicorn foal, and they're going to—"

"I don't care," Lucius stated simply.

"If Voldemort is brought here, you have just as much to fear as the rest of us," Hermione whispered sharply.

"Without my son, I have nothing!" Lucius cried, his voice still hushed. "They will pay dearly. Miss Granger, you may take the unicorn, but the women are mine."

"Lucius, I'll go with you," said Hermione softly, placing her hand on his shoulder, "but you have to let the Ministry deal with them—killing them won't help you save Draco."

Tears were in Lucius's eyes as he spoke quietly. "You sound just like my darling Narcissa—always wanting me to do the right thing." He paused for a long moment. Hermione held her breath, hoping against hope that he would decide to listen to her. "I will help you get the unicorn foal," he finally said heavily.

"Thank you," Hermione breathed, relieved.

Side by side, the tall blonde man and the slender brunette crept towards the clearing where the two women sat idly by the fire. "Go," Hermione whispered to Lucius, who nodded. The two of them charged into the clearing.

"Avada Kedavra!" screamed Lucius, his wand aimed squarely at Pansy Parkinson. She fell to the ground, dead.

"Lucius, no!" yelled Hermione.

Kassia leapt to her feet, wand in hand, but Lucius's next curse had her screaming in pain on the ground.

Hermione ran past the bodies of the women and fell to her knees beside Skye's cage. "I'm right here, baby—it's okay," she murmured to the scared foal. She touched the bars and felt a painful electric shock run through her. "Ouch!" Pulling out her wand, she cried, "Finite Incantatem! Alohomora!" The cage door swung open and Skye trotted out, nuzzling Hermione's hand affectionately. Suddenly, the unicorn foal stiffened, and before Hermione could stop him, he began shimmering out, taking her with him. The last thing Hermione saw was Lucius killing Kassia, a manic look on his face.

"—the best we can do is make him comfortable until his relatives have said goodbye," Healer McCallan said to Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, his expression grave.

Hermione reappeared in the room, Skye by her side. All three of the men looked at her in utter shock.

"B-But—no one can apparate into a private room at St. Mungo's!" cried McCallan, sounding faint. "Only disapparation is allowed! It's impossible!"

Harry and Ron were equally puzzled, as they were unable to see Skye.

"Draco," Hermione breathed, rushing to the bed.

Draco lay unconscious, his expression peaceful. A clean white sheet covered him from the neck down.

"As I was telling Misters Potter and Weasley, there's nothing that we can do for him," McCallan said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder. "He's heavily sedated right now, so he's feeling no pain whatsoever. We're just waiting on his father to give us permission to allow him to move on."

"Can I be alone with him?" Hermione asked, tears restricting her vision.

"Yes."

Ron gave Hermione a quick shoulder squeeze before he left the room with Harry.

Hermione gently held Draco's limp hand and let the tears finally fall. "I'm so sorry I let this happen to you," she whispered, ignoring Skye as he reared up and put his front hooves on the bed.

Skye gripped the blanket covering Draco with his teeth and briskly pulled it off, revealing the gaping wound in his chest.

"Skye, stop it!" cried Hermione, standing up quickly to push Skye away.

Skye whinnied loudly, a sound that Hermione had never heard before from him, and she backed away quickly.

"What are you doing?" she exclaimed.

Skye rested his head on Draco's shoulder and began making a strange clicking sound deep in his throat.

Hermione watched, utterly shocked, as Draco's wound began to slowly close and heal right in front of her. The skin closed together seamlessly, and then slowly the scar faded away. When Draco's chest looked perfectly normal again, Skye looked at Hermione, nickering excitedly.

"You saved him!" she gasped, throwing her arms around the little foal.

When Harry and Ron came to check on Hermione twenty minutes later, they found a smiling girl holding the hand of a peacefully sleeping Draco Malfoy, who looked utterly well—though still heavily sedated.

"What happened here?" cried Healer McCallan, entering the room behind them. "I—but he—how could—what did you do?"

"It must be a miracle," Hermione said, smiling brilliantly.

It took many minutes before various Healers stopped bombarding Hermione with questions. She was told by the Head Healer himself that she had been accepted into the Healers Training Program automatically, should she be interested. An hour later, she was alone with Draco, still holding his hand.

Just as she was dozing off, Draco's eyes flickered open slowly. "Hermione," he said huskily.

"Draco!" she exclaimed delightedly, happily smiling as she kissed Draco softly on the lips. "Skye healed you!"

She leaned down and planted a soft kiss on his lips.

"What happened to—"

Hermione placed a gentle finger over his lips and leaned down to whisper in his ear. "Your father killed them—both of them."

Draco sighed, his grey eyes worried.

"Don't worry; I didn't tell Harry and Ron," Hermione reassured him, holding his hands in hers. "And I won't ever tell them."

"Where is he now?" Draco asked, sighing with relief.

"I don't know…I left too quickly to be with you," Hermione admitted. "But we can find him once you're all better."

A smile graced Draco's exhausted face. "Hermione, listen," he said, seriousness creeping into his tone. "Almost dying has given me a bit of perspective on things. Please, for the love of Merlin, will you go out with me before something else terrible happens to either of us?"

Hermione flushed red and nodded with a grin. "I'd love to."

The two of them kissed passionately in the hospital room for long minutes until Draco slowly drifted back off to sleep.

Hermione sat in a chair by Draco's bed, a smile on her face as she watched him dreamily. This seemed too good to be true; Kassia and Pansy were gone from their lives, Hermione had been accepted into the Healing program, Draco was cleared by the Ministry, and he was going to be completely healthy. Things were finally looking up for her. She couldn't wait to begin her new life with Draco by her side. He was handsome, kind, and would never hurt her. The only thing marring the perfectly happy future ahead was Lucius. He was still wanted by the Ministry, but Hermione was determined to help Draco find him. No matter what else he had done, Lucius Malfoy truly and deeply loved his son, and he needed to know that Draco was okay.

Draco sighed quietly and rolled over, smiling in his sleep.

Hermione watched him tenderly, reflecting on how much things had changed. Her life had been a thunderstorm of terrible events, but the sun had finally come out and begun to shine upon her existence.

**The End.**

**Thanks to everyone for reading, and please review to let me know what you think :)**


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